Of Darkness and Light
by RogueWaveWriting
Summary: Growing up is hard, and adulthood is a scary place fraught with many perils such as job hunting, politics, marriage, kids, and so on. Luckily, Yoshiko has Hanamaru, so she won't have to do it alone. Unfortunately, Hanamaru comes from a conservative family, so the in-laws are a bit scary. Yohamaru college/domestic au.
1. Chapter 1

Okay, it's been awhile. Hi. The KanaMari fic I was working on before was obviously under hiatus, still is, but seeing as I'm writing again that can only mean good things for it. This one takes place in the same universe, only a few years later. The rating is subject to change to M if/when it crosses that line into dirtyville. For now, though, in interest of it being more widely accessible I'm making it T since it's pretty tame right now. This has been Rogue. Enjoy the read.

* * *

 **OF DARKNESS AND LIGHT**

 **Chapter One**

Between outrageously high piles of homework and the lurid party scene, a good night's rest at university was a rare and precious thing. Twenty-two-year-old Tsushima Yoshiko treasured such nights like last night when she finally got her Greek mythology essay done with two whole days to spare. After doing all that work on a twenty-page paper she intended to spend those two days sleeping deeply, mindlessly. Yoshiko had always had the worst run of luck, but at this point sleep seemed like the luckiest thing of all. She had set her standards that low.

But God's plan couldn't even meet those standards. The doorbell stirred her from slumber. Eyes still closed, she pawed for her cell phone. Squinted at it. Not even ten o'clock. It was Saturday.

Groaning, she rolled out of bed, pulled on yesterday's jeans and tank top. She slumped out into the hallway of her apartment. She found her room mate and childhood friend Kunikida Hanamaru in the living room at the table, her pencil flying across her notebook. The doorbell rang again.

"Oh no, please, let _me_ ," said Yoshiko.

Hanamaru didn't respond, only kept writing. Yoshiko grunted. Maru got up at the crack of dawn and spent the morning writing till lunch. After lunch and a cat nap she wrote again until dinner. After that she'd write some more until well into the night. Yoshiko couldn't even imagine having that many words in your head.

Cracking the door open, she hissed, "What mortal insect dares trespass into my domain?"

"The kind you wouldn't tell your landlord about." It was You, a friend of hers who had gotten her B.S. last year. "Say, you wouldn't happen to know how to bowl, would you?"

"Ha. I have no need for such an insignificant skillset – hm?" Her husky monologue was cut off by Hanamaru's notebook tapping her head.

"Do I need to lecture Yohane again about manners? Show some and let her in."

"Yes, 'mother,'" Yoshiko said in a mock sheepish voice.

"I'll take that as a 'no,'" You said, stepping inside and taking off her shoes. "Pardon the intrusion."

"What's this about bowling?" Hanamaru asked.

You sighed and rolled her eyes. "Another one of Chika's antics."

Yoshiko put her hands behind her head and cocked an eyebrow. "What, she wants to be a bowling idol now?"

"No. Not really. We were out bowling last night – me, her, and Riko. Riko bowls a strike, which is kind of a big deal. Forgive me for saying this, but she's not much of a bowler. And Chika's kinda tipsy and caught up in the moment so she stumbles up to her, beer bottle in one hand, and kisses her."

"Aww, that's sweet."

"Really?"

"No." Yoshiko could only imagine how bad a beer kiss tasted.

"Yeah, it was pretty sloppy, but I'd be lying if I said the look on Riko's face wasn't cute. Anyway," You continued, "there's these people the next lane over, and they're straight."

Hanamaru wrinkled her nose. "How straight?"

" _Straight._ Like, 'he gives her strength and she gives him feelings…' straight."

"Yuck," said Yoshiko. "Disgusting how they always feel the need to flaunt it." Maru gave a sage nod of assent.

"They go laughing at Chika and Riko. Saying stuff like, 'You could spend more productive time with balls.' And Chika is _livid._ She rails on them, telling them gay people can bowl every bit as good as straight people."

"Good for her," Hanamaru said.

"And she challenged them to a match next Friday. Only problem is she doesn't have a complete team..." You looked over at them, smiling sweetly.

"Not good for her," gulped Yoshiko.

* * *

Sunday found her, Hanamaru, Chika, Riko, You, and Kanan at The Second Cup, a diner on campus. It wasn't the most popular hangout; this was partly due to the rainbow flag hung outside and its equally colorful clientele inside. It had been open since the seventies and hadn't shown much change since then. The front counter was done up with chrome, and the whole place sported a garish tangerine color scheme as far as the eye could see.

"I have called you here as the best bowlers in our circle," said Chika.

"And the best moral support," Riko added, nodding at Hanamaru.

Chika proceeded to make an impassioned speech with Riko giving short interjections.

"The gay community has incurred a tremendous blow. ("Over bowling?") Bowling balls everywhere are crying. ("They're not.") But in the face of such tragedy we must remain committed to our shared goal – securing our unalienable rights as LGBT citizens of this Land of the Rising Sun. And on Friday we take a step closer to those rights." ("With a game of bowling?")

"Question!"

"Yes, Tsushima-san, you may proceed."

"Why not challenge them to something they'd never beat us at? Like rugby or softball?"

"Excuse me, am I sensing some stereotyping?" asked You, who had formerly managed the softball team part time.

"I happen to know for a fact over half the team is gay, including that third baseman you set me up with last month."

"How'd that go, by the way?"

Yoshiko glanced aside and nibbled a French fry. "Let's just say I had higher hopes for third base..."

Chika rapped her knuckles lightly on the walnut tabletop. "C'mon, guys, let's focus. We need to train and we need a strategy. Luckily, I have a plan."

Everyone looked at each other nervously. _Plan_ was like a four-letter word to Chika, and she was as vulgar with it as a sailor. She had always hatched some wild schemes, and they seemed to grow more insane with age. As You said, "You are going to lead to a very interesting cause of death one day, mark my words."

"Kanan." Chika jabbed a finger in her direction. "I want you to bring Mari and do her on the straight team's lane."

Kanan blew her drink back through her straw. Coke spewed up over the rim of her glass. "No!" she spluttered. "You – you gotta be kidding!" Her face was glowing.

"We'd get kicked out!" Riko exclaimed.

Chika sighed and resigned herself to tracing a knot in the wood with her forefinger. "Oh, fine. Here I was, hoping we could confound them."

"The gay team is not so awful that we need to rely on tricks to win," said You. "We're gonna own them."

That was a strategy they could all get behind. They raised their glasses to the gay team. Then, conversation meandered to campus gossip.

* * *

The week passed. Yoshiko checked her Greek mythology grade online with low hopes and high anxiety only to find her paper had gotten an A. She treated Hanamaru to dinner as thanks for her help. They popped into the bowling alley twice to practice. Yoshiko saw no sign of improvement.

"Okay," said Hanamaru. "By Friday, at this rate, you should be able to get the ball close enough to the pins for them to exchange short pleasantries. That is, before it goes into the gutter."

"Where it'll be at home with everyone's brains." Yoshiko knocked back a swig from her water bottle. "You're doing excellently in the moral support department. Thank you."

Maru smirked. "Coddling you never did do much good." She stood and stretched, then put her hands on Yoshiko's shoulders and looked her right in the eye. "You'll be great. You're bringing more to the team than I am. I'm only here to heckle the straights. But you – you will rise to this momentous occasion. You won't let us down. I know it."

Yoshiko felt as if she'd grown three sizes larger from the chest out. She smiled. Then, catching herself, she turned away from Hanamaru's hands and gaze, brought her first two fingers over her eyes, and said in a low voice, "Your flattery will not save you from the end of days, for when my –"

The side of Maru's hand landed lightly upon her head. "That will not help us win."

Friday came. Team Gay bowed to a Team Straight that barely inclined their heads in response. Hanamaru recognized one of them from her Western Lit class; this one had wanted to be a Japanese Faulkner – only she wanted to write novels about the grim lives of the poor in blank verse. Maru remembered actually losing sleep trying to puzzle out that one.

Mari made an appearance to cheer her team on. She and Kanan didn't rut on the straight team's lane as Chika requested, but they did share a deep kiss after Kanan bowled a strike on her first round.

"I don't think it's fair," a guy with a cluster of blackheads on his nose said loudly, "for the lesbos to have a man on their team."

Kanan glared, opened her mouth to say something, but Mari shook her head and whispered in her ear, "If you are a man, you're more of one then he'll ever be. And you're more woman than he'll ever get."

Hanamaru had offered to keep score, but she backed out after she saw the complex Star Trek-esque apparatus that served as a score keeper. Her rule of thumb was that if it required an instruction manual to operate then it had better be for home, work, or school.

Dia and Ruby Kurosawa joined in later for yet more moral support. After getting past their saltiness over not being invited as the gay community's best bowlers they cheered harder than anyone when one from their team stepped up.

Finally came Yoshiko's turn. The second she stepped up she was certain this was just a very bad idea. She could feel the stares of the opposing team, cruel people who in all likelihood wanted her dead. _Oh God, these assholes are gonna win and it's gonna be my fault._ She looked at Hanamaru. She had just finished tying her hair up, and she tipped Yoshiko a thumbs up and a wink.

 _"The ball might come close enough to the pins to exchange pleasantries before it goes in the gutter." You little trick. I'll show you._ Taking a deep breath, she grabbed the ball. The voices and the stares disappeared and it was just her and the pins. They were going down. She would take them out in a single strike and she would show up not only the straights but that smartass Zuramaru. She would.

She took a step. Another. On the third, she brought her arm back and swung it forward and down, aiming for that sweet center.

And her fingers got caught as she hooked her wrist, twisting them with a series of cracks. Crying out, she dropped the ball.

Kanan and Mari, who were both med students, ran forward to check on her.

"I'll bet she would have rather broken her fingers in a different hole," the straights cajoled.

In truth they weren't broken, but they hurt like hell and she couldn't do her round. Kanan and You had shown true talent in theirs, but they were only two talented people against a team of four. And so it was that the gay team lost.

Despite feeling painfully bitter at the loss, Chika put on a smile and proposed they all go out for drinks to celebrate a fabulous (if not victorious) effort.

Hanamaru sat down beside Yoshiko as she gingerly changed her shoes. She took a look at her crestfallen face and said, "Oh, Yoshiko. There's no need to beat yourself up."

"I let the team down."

Maru rubbed her back. "Those people we were up against let themselves down all the time probably. That one with the bangs and glasses does for sure anyway." She shook her head, amazed at how someone could be so stupid and so hateful at the same time. Seeing people like that only made her happier she knew Yoshiko, knowing without a doubt, despite what she may think, that she was one of the good ones. Maru leaned against her, then said, "You probably would have missed those pins anyway."

Yoshiko lightly slapped her arm with a shoe. "I'll pin you, Meaniemaru."

"Not now, dear, there are children here."

Dumbfounded and blushing, Yoshiko dropped the shoe and stood. Sometimes she had to hate how smart Maru could be. "Whatever. Like you'd actually want me to pin you anyway."

"No. But somebody will." Hanamaru also stood and pulled a thread off Yoshiko's shirt. "You're not exactly a troll, you know. You'll find her. The exciting thing is you'll never know where."

Yoshiko looked at her smiling up at her from under sandy brown bangs, her short ponytail like a fluffy halo around the top half of her head. Time seemed to move in indirect proportion to her racing heart. Words seemed to fall clumsily from her open mouth. "Yeah. Or… when."

"Right? She could come into your life at any moment."

 _Like almost twenty years ago._ Yoshiko brought a hand to her mouth and rubbed thoughtfully. Maru, meanwhile, was suggesting they rejoin the group for those drinks.


	2. Chapter 2

**OF DARKNESS AND LIGHT**

 **Chapter Two**

 _This is bad. This is really bad._

Yoshiko had repeated this line of thought, mantra-like, over the last week everytime her efforts to stop liking Hanamaru had failed. Living with her didn't help. But it wasn't like those fluffy thoughts about her laugh and her hair and the look on her face when she smarted off on her stopped when she left the apartment.

She tried listing off Maru's bad qualities as viable reasons to not be attracted to her. But, sure enough, thinking about the bad parts of someone you care about naturally led to thinking about their good parts. Plus, the good half seemed to have grown larger than life with this new Affection Vision™, dwarfing the bad half. _So what if she feels the need to send big texts over common functions she's just now discovered in her graphing calculator? Have you_ heard _her talk about a new book she's reading?_ And, weirdly enough, her ignorance when it came to technology was starting to get cute. There was no winning with this one.

 _No, I can't let thoughts like that drag me down_ , she thought one evening during dinner. _I'll win over these feelings for Zuramaru and things can go back to normal._

"Yoshiko…?"

She looked up and realized Hanamaru had been saying something.

"Oh! I'm sorry, really sorry. What'd you say?"

"It's fine, don't worry. I was just saying this is really good." Hanamaru waved her spoon at the mild curry on her plate.

"Oh. Thank you." Yoshiko beamed. Her heart got that warm, glowy feeling. _Stop that_ , she told it.

Maru gave her an odd look before returning to her curry. "Remember that awful Thousand Island dressing curry you made our sophomore year?"

"Yes." Yoshiko laughed. "God. Awful's an understatement."

"Battery acid curry," Maru said dryly, then looked up at Yoshiko howling with laughter. She couldn't help it. It was Maru's damn voice when she gave zingers like that.

She blinked. Shrugged. "I should be a comedian." She then launched into the worst Kansai accent Yoshiko had ever heard. "Nandeyanen?" she crooned, backhanding thin air.

Yoshiko giggled. Maru sounded more like herself warming up for choral practice with a headcold than any genuine Osakan. "Zuramaru, meet Yanaamaru."

"Ah has evolved. Hurray fer me!" She laughed with Yoshiko, knowing her Kansaiben was bad. On the last sentence, out of habit, she nearly punctuated it with "zura," then caught and corrected herself midway, twisting it into "zuryanaa."

Later that night as she went to bed Yoshiko realized two things. The first thing was that "zuryanaa" was still funny and possibly would be for years. The second thing was that it was no use. She was tired and couldn't do it anymore. She couldn't stop liking Hanamaru.

* * *

It wasn't as bad as she thought. Yoshiko had thought admitting her feelings would give her less control over them, but what she found was just the opposite. It was like the first step in AA: admit you have a problem. Now that that was done, she could take steps toward solving it.

Eventually.

She lingered on step one because, as far as she knew, she wasn't hurting anyone. She could still look at Hanamaru. And talk to her. And touch her.

Monday morning found Maru shelving the weekend's batch of returns at the campus library. Yoshiko, who wouldn't touch most of the books found there, sat astride a chair she had pulled up nearby.

"What're you doing tonight?" she asked, tracing a finger along the stepladder upon which Maru now stood.

"Um, laundry?"

Yoshiko laughed, then placed a contrite hand over her mouth as Hanamaru shushed her. Lowering her voice to a whisper and placing a warm hand on her leg, she said, "I thought we'd go out to dinner. My treat."

Hanamaru looked at her uncomfortably. "Yoshiko, this is like the third time in the last week you've treated me to dinner."

Yoshiko shrugged, still smiling, still with her hand on Maru's leg. "Treating you is my treat."

"Well… Okay." Maru sighed. "I guess a few more kilos couldn't hurt even me."

Yoshiko clucked her tongue. "Nonsense. You've got a great body."

"Great for a pig pen, maybe."

"Hanamaru, you are _not_ fat."

"Oh, Yoshiko." Maru gave her a pitying glance. "I'd like to think we're closer than bolstering each other's egos with false flattery and empty compliments."

"Really? You think we're real close?" Yoshiko cooed. Maru gave her a weird look, and she cleared her throat and dropped her goofy grin. "Well… What good's calling yourself a pig gonna do?"

"Plenty. Maybe I can lose all this." She dragged her hand across her ample tummy, under which thick yellow fat cells had relieved each other of duty since freshman year.

"God, I hope not." Yoshiko caught herself saying that too late.

Hanamaru smirked, then turned to face her. "Tsushima Yoshiko. Are you a chubby chaser?"

Yoshiko's mouth flapped soundlessly as she shook her head, eyes wide. "… No. I didn't mean it like..."

"You're a total and complete chubby chaser. I'm kinkshaming." Maru returned to shelving amid Yoshiko's (whispered) protests. She grabbed a book off the return cart, caught a glimpse of its cover, then grimaced. " _The Truth About Syphilis._ Sounds like someone had a bad weekend." She gingerly shelved it, then asked Yoshiko for a dab of hand sanitizer.

Out of the corner of her eye she spotted Kanan and Mari entering the library amid a gale of high winds. A scattering of leaves followed them inside. Both of them were sporting that signature Meisei U hairstyle (blown back). Hanamaru smiled and waved them over.

"Sorry for the wait," said Kanan. "We were both in class when we got your text. What's wrong?"

Whispering at Yoshiko to wait just a moment, Hanamaru led the two of them out of earshot.

"Take her to lunch, take her to the movies," she said. "Take her anywhere. Just take her away from me for awhile."

Kanan looked back and forth between Maru and Yoshiko. "Are you two fighting or something?"

"No," Hanamaru said slowly. "She's just being weird. Even for her. She laughs at everything I say, she keeps touching me, and she won't stop looking at me with these… big eyes."

Mari grinned and looked at Yoshiko, who appeared to be watching them closely. "Oh, really?"

Kanan's face, which had been furrowed with concern, smoothed over and she nodded. "Okay. Don't worry. We'll talk to her."

She grabbed Mari, who had begun to skip and trounce on over to Yoshiko, by the back of her coat and pulled her close enough to whisper a secret game plan. "We're not going to pick on her, okay, babe?"

"She is crushing on her. It is totally the best time to tease her."

"She's vulnerable right now. She needs to know that these feelings are normal and healthy and –"

" – and we're here to advise her on how to go around (maru) deflowering (hana) your girlfriend."

Kanan let go of her coat and inwardly apologized to Hanamaru for possibly making the situation worse. Mari, meanwhile, managed to detach Yoshiko from her side with false news of a new Hot Topic opening up.

The second they were outside (the cold wind lashing at any inch of exposed skin it could get) Mari spun around so she was facing the other two girls and walking backward. "Oh my God, did you guys see that hella hot girl Maru was with at the Tachibana Bar last night?"

"What? Who?" Yoshiko exploded.

"Whacha getting' so worked up for?" Mari asked, ignoring her girlfriend's disapproving stare.

Yoshiko looked at Mari's grin and dropped her gaze, smiling despite herself. "I'm that obvious?"

Kanan placed a hand on her back and she looked up and sighed.

"Does Zuramaru know?"

"No." Mari shook her head.

"'Course she doesn't know," said Kanan. "This is Hanamaru we're talking about here."

Yoshiko laughed. "Yeah, she does live in her head quite a bit. But then, writers are supposed to be like that."

"So why not ask her out?" Kanan asked.

She shook her head. "I could never ask out a friend."

"Yeah, that seldom works out well," Mari said wisely, looking at Kanan.

"You guys are different. You have so much to offer each other. So does Maru to any lucky girl on campus. But that's the thing – lucky. Nothing good will come from being with me. Nothing has," she added, reminded of her disastrously failed attempts at meaningful intimate relationships, failures so exponentially epic that they could have only happened to her. She couldn't see You or Dia taking home a girl with Brazilian parasites way up in there. "I don't want to burden her with my bad luck."

"I don't think," said Mari, "that you'll 'burden her,' as you put it, anymore than you do now as her friend."

"Yeah, I mean, really," said Kanan, "a girlfriend is really just a super best friend – one you share more with than your other friends."

"Okay. What if she doesn't like what I have to share?"

"What, do you have a secret drug addiction you don't want her finding out about?" Kanan's tone was light enough to be taken as a joke, but her face suggested genuine interest.

"No."

"Have you murdered somebody?"

"No! Look, I – "

"Then you have nothing to worry about," Kanan declared with a smile. She faced forward.

"You know what I think?" Mari asked.

Yoshiko sighed. When Mari said that, it meant she was about to become your second mom (or third if you were blessed with queer parents). It was the Italian way. "No. What?"

"I think the reason you're so worried is because you care so damn much about Hanamaru. No, no," she added quickly, seeing Yoshiko flinch and look away. "That's a good thing. Really. If you didn't care about her you'd just be a crappy girlfriend she'd be better off leaving and forgetting about."

Yoshiko was red. She muttered, "It's not like I especially like Zuramaru that much."

"Oh God. Do not go tsundere on her." Mari rolled her eyes and flapped her hands. "You're too old for that to be cute. And it doesn't sit well on you either way."

Yoshiko leered, hurt. Then, conceding she might not be cut out to express affection as tough love ( _Zuramaru might be, though,_ she thought with a great deal of amusement, picturing Hanamaru looking grumpily aside and saying, "Hmph. Betsu ni, zura."), she sighed and said, "Fine, I'll ask her out. Okay? I'll do it. This weekend."

"No." Both Kanan and Mari were shaking their heads. "Tonight."

"Tonight! I can't! I need more time to prepare!"

"Prepare to wimp out, maybe," said Mari. "Do it tonight, Yoshiko, or I'm breaking your Sylvanas Windrunner figurine."

Yoshiko choked on a hard gust of wind, imagining the Horde's latest in their revolving door of Warchiefs (how long would she last? One expansion? Two? Not even one and killed off in the next patch?), as cunning as she was cruel, in pieces. "She cost a fortune! And you can't put a price on love!"

"I'm not. I'm putting a price on courage, yours specifically. I'm serious, Yoshiko. Ask out Hanamaru tonight, or Sylvanas'll be running with the wind from the back bumper of Dia's Honda."

Yoshiko gave Mari a withering glance, then agreed. Really, all she had to do was say "I like you."

"Alright. Now, where's this new Hot Topic you told me about?"

"Huh? What Hot Topic? Oh, right! Say, have you ever had canolis? 'Cause there's this bakery that has…"

* * *

 **A/N:** Well, I ran outta notebook paper, didn't have the car to buy another notebook, and refuse to write any other way but longhand. So, yay for cliffhangers. See you in chapter three, the confession chapter!


	3. Chapter 3

**OF DARKNESS AND LIGHT**

 **Chapter Three**

There were no fancy restaurants at Meisei U. The businesses there provided all the college essentials: cheap junk food, cheap booze, cheap music, and cheap cigarettes. Even if there was, Yoshiko wouldn't take Hanamaru there to ask her out. It would be hard for her to say "no" when presented with a dish of food her tax return couldn't cover one quarter of, and that seemed unfair. If there were two things Yoshiko was banking on tonight it was fairness and being told no.

The Second Cup was out because they always went there so it could hardly be considered special. Lukulo's was a no-go as well, since Maru had suddenly grown to hate it shortly in to freshman year. The remainder of the campus was mostly bars (bad for confessing, good for a post-rejection drink or ten) and fast food chains you could find anywhere else in Japan.

In the end she settled on The Junction because she liked the railroad crossing sign and the little steam engine on its logo and that made it better than any other obscure diner in town they'd never been to.

"How'd you find this place?" Hanamaru asked, looking up and around at the railroad tracks bordering the tops of the walls.

"Did a quick Google search. Wanted to try someplace new." Yoshiko gulped down the last of her water.

Hanamaru watched her, concerned. All traces of her former weirdness – the staring, the laughing, the touching – were all gone and she was all brooding quiet. Both versions of her were unusual and, frankly, scary. The thought that maybe she was crushing on her caressed the bare surface of her consciousness, like spider's silk stroking her arm, and she quashed that one before it could come inside there, take off its shoes, and make itself at home.

 _Maybe her mom's dying_ , she thought, frightened. She had overheard Yoshiko arguing on the phone with her recently. _Her mom calls her and suddenly drops this announcement that she's terminally ill and going into a hospice program and poor Yoshiko doesn't know how to react so she blows up at her and now she's nearing the point of acceptance._

Okay. Yeah. But it still didn't explain the touchy-feely crap and treatings to dinner.

 _Her indirect way of asking me to be her family._ Yoshiko's mother had had and raised her by herself. If she died then Yoshiko would have nobody left (there was her runaway dad, yeah, but what good would a guy like _that_ be in that situation?). _Of course I'll be her family. Jeez. When your mom's dying you need all the love and support you can get._ And Hanamaru _did_ love her, she supposed, but not in the good way that builds lasting relationships. She wasn't even sure if there was such a thing as a good way to love a fat girl. And fat girls, as far as she knew, were only allowed to love people on the inside.

Finally Yoshiko said, "Hanamaru, there's something I wanna tell you."

"There's something I want to tell you."

Yoshiko looked dimly surprised. "Okay. You go first."

"I just want to say that…" Maru took a deep breath and sandwiched her cold hands between her thighs, compressing her body, shrinking it. "… no matter what happens, Yoshiko, I'll always stay by your side. I won't leave you to deal with whatever you're dealing with alone. Considering how far back we go, I guess this goes without saying, but…"

"No. This really does make me feel better. Thanks, Hanamaru." She smiled – not one of those kooky grins she'd given her over the last week, but a good old-fashioned Tsushima Yoshiko smile. Then Yohane said, "If you want to swear this in blood, I have my enchanted sacrificial daggers at home."

"You geek," Maru laughed. It occurred to her that she hadn't heard Yohane come out in awhile – about a week, in fact.

Yoshiko laughed with her, then said, "What I wanted to tell you was –"

"More water, ladies?"

She looked up gratefully at the waiter and nodded. After he left she downed the entire glass in one sitting.

"Yoshiko, if you have anymore water you'll drown."

"Thirsty."

"Anyway, you were saying?"

"Oh, yes. I was saying that I've, uh, I've found the girl I want to date."

The Aegis of the Dying Mother shattered (guiltily) and Hanamaru was forced to confront the crush monster beyond. She took a deep breath, wishing for a good sandwich. This could mean one of two things: either Yoshiko liked her (which was bad) or she liked someone else (which was worse).

"Oh, Yoshiko, that's great. Didn't I tell you you'd never know when or where she'd show up?"

"Yep. That you did." She raised her glass to her mouth, saw it was empty, and set it down.

"Well? Who is she?"

"You."

Maru blinked. "You… me?"

"Yes. You, you."

"Me, you?"

Yoshiko didn't respond, only stared at her with nervous eyes, trying desperately to read the emotional atmosphere in Maru's. Thunderclouds seemed to be gathering there. Well, at least she didn't laugh or anything.

Maru looked down. Back up at her. Then she grabbed her glass of water and slugged it down.

* * *

Hanamaru had loved the Liberal Arts and Sciences dormitory. Being assigned a random room mate with whom she'd have to live for an entire semester was what worried her the most as a high school third year who had just been accepted to Meisei University, where its freshmen were required to live in the dorms rather than the apartment complexes and town houses clustered across the town.

But her fears had been unfounded. Her room mate was great. Her entire _floor_ was great (floor 8, theme: Hollywood, with construction paper film tape bordering the elevators and cork board, and yellow stars on each door to mark which residents inhabited the room beyond). She would even go so far as to say the entire dorm was great, but even a wayward dreamer such as she knew you couldn't qualify something so big so simply.

And also, there was Izumi Satoko.

She met Izumi in the LAS cafeteria (which had some of the best sandwiches Hanamaru had ever eaten). She'd just come back from a late dinner with Yoshiko and Ruby and decided an extra panini might make a nice nightcap. As she headed for the cafeteria exit, wrapped-up sandwich clutched in one hand, she heard a low voice call out behind her.

"Excuse me…?"

She turned around and saw a girl with smooth dark hair in a pixie cut.

"You dropped your ID," this girl told her, holding out the object in question.

"Oh. Thank you!" Maru inclined her head gratefully, then took her ID (their hands meeting briefly in a soft swipe along the fingers). "It must have fallen out of my back pocket."

The girl momentarily glanced downward, as if the mention of her back pocket called to mind the part of her body it covered, then back up at Hanamaru's eyes and smiled. "No problem, Kunikida-san."

"How do you – oh, right." Maru laughed in spite of herself, nodding at her ID. The girl laughed with her, and Hanamaru flushed. _Oh Lord, I am so gay._

"I'm Izumi. Izumi Satoko," the girl said after the laughter died down. "I'm on the sixth floor, the Hayao Miyazaki floor. You?"

"I'm… e-eighth. Hollywood." Maru froze as her voice broke. She cleared her throat. She was dimly aware that her hands were shaking. She put them behind her back.

"Well, it was nice meeting you," Izumi finally said. Her eyes had never left Hanamaru's. "Have a good night, Kunikida-san." She patted her shoulder as she walked past.

Needless it was to say, Maru didn't get much sleep that night, even with the panini. She was flying so high from that encounter ("cute meet," the romance novelists call it) that it felt like her body had hardly touched the bed.

The next day she called an emergency meeting at The Second Cup. Everyone showed except the Kurosawa sisters, who had been fighting at the time.

"So," Hanamaru said, reaching the conclusion of her tale, "what do you guys think that was about?"

You adjusted her glasses (which she had taken to wearing much more often in college) and smirked. "It is my expert opinion as an expert-level lesbian…" Riko rolled her eyes "… that you got cruised."

"How can you be so sure?" Riko asked, and the other girls looked around uncomfortably. They loved Riko to death, but that year she had been a trifle insufferable. Having just came out, she was still going through that self-loathing homophobic phase. She would have been just as happy (if not happier) at a straight diner as she was The Second Cup. "Why are you so convinced that everyone is gay?"

"Because they are," You responded coolly. "Or they wish they were."

"Whatever," said Riko. "I happen to know Izumi-san anyway. She was in some of my music classes last year. I'm fairly certain she's not gay."

Hanamaru's heart sank. If anyone would know anything about Izumi Satoko, it would be Riko. She looked down, dejected.

"Now, now," said Yoshiko. "We don't know for sure that Izumi's straight just because Riko-senpai says so. Girl's gaydar is so broke it's in the Bermuda Triangle."

Riko glared and Yoshiko poked out her tongue.

"Also," said You, "she made lots of eye contact and touched you. That is trademark flirtation body language. I learned that in psych. You, Kunikida Hanamaru, got cruised. By a senpai, no less. I'm almost a little jealous."

"What is 'cruising'?" Maru asked. "Why don't I know what you're talking about?"

"Because you don't watch TV," said Yoshiko. She then became Yohane and husked, "A powerful warlock has deemed you, Onimaru, worthy of becoming her demon-in-command. In the realm of the Underworld, Helheim, we call that 'cruising.'"

"You're a bird," Maru said, giggling. "What's the actual definition? C'mon, I wanna know."

Mari responded, "Basically, Izumi saw you and liked what she saw."

"Why do they call it 'cruising'?"

Everyone fell quiet and looked around at each other.

"Why _do_ they call it that?" Yoshiko asked.

There followed an argument that means little to anyone besides young gayfolk holed up in one of their few hangouts about why it was called cruising, where the term came from, and what it was called before it was coined.

Hanamaru found Izumi inside LAS later that day, waiting on the elevators. Possessing herself of courage not normally found inside her, she took it upon herself to check and see if gay lightning could strike twice in the same place and speak to her first.

"Hi there, Izumi-senpai."

Izumi turned around with a bright expression on her face, as though she had instantly recognized her voice. She cast her gaze briefly over Hanamaru's figure ( _cruising_ , she thought with a feeling that jaywalked diagonally across the intersection of Smugness and Nervousness) before looking her in the eye.

"Hi, Kunikida-san… How d'you know that I'm your senior? You don't have _my_ ID this time, do you?"

"No, no. We have a common acquaintance. Sakurauchi Riko."

"Ah, yes, her." Izumi was nodding. Hanamaru would think back to this whole mess, think about how Sakurauchi "Bermuda Gay" Riko couldn't read any signs as far as Izumi's sexual inclinations went, and she would think bitterly that it made sense. Not only was Riko's gaydar broke, she was just not Izumi's kind of girl.

Presently Izumi smirked at her. "So, you've been talking about me?"

Hanamaru's cheeks burned. "…Yes," she croaked.

"That's fine, no need to freak out. Just… I'd like it if we could talk to each other more."

Hanamaru giggled, unable to believe this was really happening. She kept waiting for herself to wake up in bed, catching a quick nap before class to make up for the sleep she lost last night. "I… I would like that, too."

"How does Friday sound? We could go to Lukulo's. Not too fancy, but…"

"No, that's fine. I'd love to."

Thus started Hanamaru's first real relationship. They saw each other for about a month. Izumi was a music major, like Riko. Unlike Riko, she played the tuba. Lately she'd been getting into Western music, and her tastes spanned a wide variety from pop to funk, Aretha Franklin to Kelly Clarkson. She said she could tell Hanamaru dabbled in music herself because "you have the voice of a singer." She insisted on hearing her sing and Maru gave in, joking, "It really isn't over until the fat lady sings."

Before she went to college Hanamaru had weighed a relatively svelte one hundred and twenty pounds. After a month on a good old college diet of paninis and beer nuggets (the local specialty, deep-fried hunks of pizza dough) and occasionally booze, she weighed one-forty. Yoshiko and Ruby had also gotten tubby, but a few trips to the rec center had relieved them of their freshman fifteen. Maru also went there, eager to get her old body back, only to find that fatness, for her anyway, was like a drunk relative, always coming back in for one last goodbye.

She and Izumi never went to bed, but later on Maru had to wonder if they really hadn't, in Izumi's mind anyway. A sharp mind it was. She remembered all of Hanamaru's favorite foods and got her two helpings of them (sometimes even a third for her to take home and enjoy later). Every date took place at some restaurant or the cafeteria or either of the girls' rooms. Izumi always insisted on paying, even though Maru had a job and could easily pay. Whereas other girls charmed their dates with romantic movies or spinning dances around the ice rink, Izumi apparently charmed hers with food.

"Go on, have one more," she said on their last date, which had been in her dorm. They were eating pizza. On Izumi's laptop Sarah Martin was singing about how the nights were long where she came from.

Hanamaru wiped her hands on a napkin and shook her head. "Oh, I really can't… Oh, alright, just one more."

"Those are cute shorts," Izumi remarked. "I've always been a sucker for cellulite."

Maru froze. All of a sudden she could no longer taste the pizza. She swallowed and slowly set the piece down. "Well, I, uh, guess it takes all kinds." She tried to laugh.

"The way your belly jogs from side to side when you walk. How sweetly satisfied you look when you eat."

The taste of pizza was gone, alright. Now what Maru tasted was a bitter tang, like a dissolved medicine tablet, sliding its way from the back of her tongue down her throat.

"Now, eat," Izumi commanded, grabbing the half-eaten slice and shoving it crust-deep into Maru's face. Above the garlic-coated crust her wide, terrified eyes stared. "Eat more, lovergirl."

Riko wasn't Izumi's kind of girl at all. She was much too skinny.

"She only liked me 'cause I'm fat!" she told Dia, Kanan, and Mari later. She glared at Mari, who was laughing her skinny girl ass off. It _was_ funny, she would concede later. It was also horrible, but horrible humor was fat girls' specialty. Eat yourself into an early grave? You bet that's funny! Get snubbed by everyone until finally someone finds you attractive but they turn out to just be a chubby chaser? Hilarious! Har-dee-fucking-har!

And so Izumi Satoko disappears from this story forever (except maybe for Maru's bitter thoughts and memories). Hanamaru spent the time recovering from this shit-hot mess by writing and eating. The writing took her out of the real world temporarily, which eased her mind. The food built a wall around her, a soft shield to cushion her from life's harshest blows. She emerged from recovery in the cardigans and long skirts she used to wear (her cellulite-showing shorts gathering dust at the back of her drawers) with her first short story and a stalwart resolution to never catch feelings for anyone again. It didn't seem likely that she ever could. She was too fat to look attractive to anyone save the Izumi Satokos of the world, and prior experience could help her spot them coming a mile away. She was warm, fed, and safe.

* * *

Kurosawa Ruby, 22, of Hinomaru House, room 5, knelt before the table in her living room, amazed by Maru's story, her senior thesis temporarily forgotten. She'd always enjoyed listening to people's stories, so when she opted for Meisei University, where her older sister went, she chose journalism for her major and began learning how to tell the stories you heard. There was an article in Hanamaru's story, possibly even one that would sell, but relationships and dating weren't Ruby's strong suit. She wrote about fashion and music.

Behind her, Dia sat bolt upright in her armchair (the two sisters had paid for it, but the she sat in it the most so it was hers in a sense), her tea similarly forgotten. She'd shouted a bit in reaction to the news, then fell into quiet shock as the tale went on. Slowly, she sat back, shaking her head in awe. "Hanamaru and Yoshiko, the dynamic duo, together at last. My goodness."

"I never said we were together," said Maru. She was kneeling across from Ruby, eating cup ramen. "I didn't really give her an answer."

"What _did_ you say?" Ruby asked.

"'May I use the bathroom?'"

"Sure. It's down the hall to your right."

"No, I mean, that's what I said to her. I drank quite a bit of water."

"Ah."

"By the time I came back out I still didn't know what to say. So I told her I'd think about it and bolted." Hanamaru held up the ramen. "That's why I'm eating this. I skipped dinner. Thank you for it. I'll pay you back."

Both sisters shook their heads. "No need for that," said Dia. "Our food's yours."

Hanamaru thanked them, thinking how different the context of "our food's yours" would be if Izumi Satoko said it. Dia had said it to convey that Maru was a longtime friend who didn't have to worry about owesies. Izumi would say it to convey that food was Maru's chain and she (Izumi) had the key. Hanamaru hadn't thought much about Izumi in the last few years until Yoshiko asked her out, and now she filled up her head and oh, wasn't _that_ just a terrific way to start a relationship, thinking about the last person you dated. Fantastic. She'd congratulated herself on a regular basis not only for getting through her relationship with Izumi but getting over it as well. Because she _was_ over it.

Now, sitting here in her baggy grey argyle cardigan, the thought about Dia saying "our food's yours" brought with it the cold realization that she wasn't over Izumi, never stopped thinking about her, that Izumi Satoko had been a shadow cast over the past four years of her life.

She burst into tears.

Ruby and Dia moved in closer to her, rubbing her back and arms. Hanamaru crossed them on the table and buried her face in them, like an upset kid in class. She didn't want them to see her cry. Girls generally weren't at their prettiest when crying (though some sadistic weirdos thought otherwise) but crying fat girls were even more ugly.

"I know it's going to be hard to tell Yoshiko no," said Dia.

What Maru said in response shocked them both.

"I don't want to."

Ruby blinked and in her face Dia thought she could see her going back over the years of knowing them, trying to pinpoint the moment one best friend fell for the other.

"You like Yoshiko?" Ruby asked.

"Y-Yes."

"Like her, like her?"

Maru laughed humorlessly. They sounded like children on a playground. "Yes."

"Then… what's wrong?" Dia asked.

"I want to like her, but I'm not sure I can. I'm not sure she can like me. She'll realize that soon enough."

The two sisters looked at one another. Ruby spoke slowly.

"I don't know much about love, but I don't think it's something you qualify with 'want' and 'can.' There's only 'do.' Do you like her?"

"After that thing with Izumi-senpai I –"

"Maru." Dia lightly tapped her head with the side of her hand. She thought what her sister said was well said, damn well, except for "I don't know much about love." She thought Ruby had just given Hanamaru an opening to make excuses. "Do you like Yoshiko?"

She sighed. "Yeah." She raised her head and scrubbed at her raw face with both hands.

"And Yoshiko likes you. Right?"

"Right."

Dia spread her hands and smiled. "That's all there is to it. Anything else is something you two can work on together by talking. I'm certain you'll be fine at that. You're a good speaker, Hanamaru."

Maru relented, letting in the Yoshiko she had been trying to see, wanted to see but pushed away out of fear. Her eyes, sometimes dancing bright, other times warm and dark. Her voice when she did Yohane. Her wit and absurdity. How rough her life had been, how much she must have worried about her mom dying and leaving her all alone as a small child (Hanamaru's own separation-by-death anxiety had lingered by the time most kids were assured that Mom and Dad weren't going to die anytime soon, and hell, she had both of them), and yet here she was cursing it all with humor instead of acting like some sadsack asshole who obsessed over her ex.

Then she grew cautious again. "What if she only likes me because I'm fat?"

"Yoshiko?" Ruby giggled. "Now that would be something. If she was into that I think we'd know a long time ago, Maru."

Hanamaru had to admit she had a point.

"No, no, no, she wouldn't be if that were so," said Dia, who was grinning. "She's much too proud to profess to being a chubby chaser. She'd show it through Yohane." Throwing an arm around her own waist and slanting two fingers over an eye, Dia said in her best Yohane impersonation, "A _baku_ is the only demon worthy of my contract, for watching it feed is a delight surpassed by none."

This got both Ruby and Hanamaru laying on the floor cackling. Once she'd regained her breath Ruby said, "The _baku_ 's a _yokai_ , sis. Yoshiko's more into Christian demons."

Dia shrugged, laughing with them.

Hanamaru stood. "Well, it's late. I should be back home."

Ruby and Dia nodded, understanding what she meant.

"Thank you," she said awkwardly.

"Anytime," said Dia. "Now go get her."

They saw her off, then initiated a pow-wow about Hanamaru and Yoshiko's soon-to-begin relationship.

* * *

By the time Hanamaru got back to their apartment she felt really silly. Yoshiko had to have thought she was weird for just running off like that, before they'd even ordered. She wondered if she had stayed and ate something; it seemed like poor taste to leave without doing so. She imagined Yoshiko leaving The Junction and going someplace to quell her worries – GameStop, maybe, or perhaps even to one of their friends' places for advice as she had done – a lonely girl on a walk in a late winter night, thinking of the one she loved, her breath jetting out of her lips like a smokestack. Hanamaru thought about how corny this imagery was, how _writer-like_ … and she also thought about how much she would like to kiss those lips, sealing the heat and the winter breath puffs away from the night, something to be shared only between them.

The feelings this evoked came in waves so clear and so powerful that none could stand against their imperative, and Maru made no effort to do so. She simply gave in. Caught in love's undertow, her stomach swam with feelings of sickness and joy.

 _Goodness_ , she thought, _if I'm this far gone over her, then it must be serious._ She felt good, better than she had in years.

She went inside and found Yoshiko home already. She was laying on the couch playing with her 3DS, a can of soda nearby. The second she saw Hanamaru come in she closed the DS and sat up. Yoshiko was usually never so attentive, would have ignored the Prime Minister if he came in while she was playing video games, and seeing her like this, her eyes so bright and alive and happy fixed on her, struck Hanamaru as extremely sweet and downright adorable.

 _This is fine. You can do this._

"Hey," Yoshiko said. "Where'd you wind up going?"

"To the Kurosawas'. What about you?" She looked over her shoulder at her as she hung up her coat and scarf.

"I had a burger and then came back here. Did you have any dinner?"

"Oh, yeah. I had microwaved ramen at their place."

"Oh. My. God. I am _so_ jealous of rich kids and how good they eat." Yoshiko made a great show of flapping her hands and rolling her eyes. Hanamaru laughed.

"I'm sorry for running off like that," she said.

"It's okay," Yoshiko said, smiling. "I understand. That must have all come out of nowhere."

"In retrospect, it didn't. It really explained a lot."

"You're as brutally honest as ever." But she was laughing. "I like that about you."

 _Something Izumi-senpai didn't, even with fatness in my favor._ The feeling Hanamaru was getting wasn't so much one of liking Yoshiko more and more but letting more and more of her liking for her come in. It was like watching a dam break – first, little trickles of affection squirting through hair-thin cracks, eventually a steady stream of love. And oh, could it be possible that she was in love, that her feelings for Yoshiko went that far?

Yoshiko's smile dropped and she looked down. "Sorry, I guess I shouldn't say stuff like that while you're still thinking."

"No, it's fine," Maru said quickly. She cleared her throat and tried to make herself slow down. "I wanted to talk to you about that."

Taking slow, measured steps, hoping Yoshiko couldn't see how badly her legs were shaking, Hanamaru walked over to the couch and sat down beside her.

"How should I say this…"

Yoshiko's face, which had been a mix of excitement and dread as Maru walked over, waxed into full-on dread. If people had to think of how best to phrase things, they were probably about to let you down and wanted to know how to go about doing it gently.

"I think directly's the best way," she said.

Hanamaru nodded assent. "Yes, you're right." She took a deep breath. "The truth is, Yoshiko, I've liked you for a long time." How long? Who knew? If she was straight and Yoshiko was a guy it would be easier to pinpoint maybe. As it was, she'd only found out she liked girls her third year in high school – everything before that was seen through a hazy, closet-retrospective lens. And really, did it matter? "I still do. I want you to be my girlfriend."

Yoshiko blinked. So deep was she in the pre-rejection phase that it took her a moment to cycle back to acceptance.

"Really?" she almost whispered.

Maru snorted laughter. "No, this is all a really bad prank. I can just _see_ the ad revenue I'll get from this on YouTube." She took her hand and Yoshiko jumped in her seat, as if she'd been goosed. Hanamaru's hand was round and pudgy, in contrast to Yoshiko's, which was thin, bony, and a little crooked around the fingers. " _Yes_ , you doof."

Yoshiko cracked a huge, beautiful smile. Then, afraid she might cry from happiness and love for Hanamaru, she took refuge in Yohane and said, "If you wish to make the blood contract official, I still have my enchanted daggers."

"Oh, goodness, I get the fallen angel, too?" Maru sighed, pretending an annoyance she didn't actually feel. "How will I tell my parents I'm gay and polyamorous?"

"Stay away from holy water. They may try and use it to dissolve our contract." She stopped being Yohane and said, "Coming out's gonna be hard, huh?"

"Yeah, they're pretty conservative. Not like your mom at all."

Yoshiko smirked. Tsushima Naoko, upon learning that her fifteen-year-old daughter was a lesbian, put all the energy and passion she didn't put into work into Japan's LGBT community. "Yep. She does gay better than some gay girls."

"Maybe she's bi," Hanamaru mused.

"Oi, don't be thinkin' of makin' it with my mom."

"I'm not." It was nice, however, to know what Yoshiko would look like when she got older.

The two girlfriends spent the entire night talking about a great many things. Childhood memories, people they went to school with, their hopes for the future. At one point Yoshiko dragged out an old astrology book that used to belong to her mother and they flipped through it, teasing each other about their signs' bad points (substance abuse for Maru's, which was Pisces, and accidents in the home for Yoshiko's, which was Cancer) and looking up their compatibility (very good).

By the time dawn broke crisp and clear over the frosty horizon, the sun throwing hard rays through rapidly advancing clouds, Hanamaru wasn't just sure. She knew she loved Tsushima Yoshiko.

* * *

 **A/N:** This was a challenge, but it was also fun. From here on out's pretty much gonna be The Gay Life of Maru and Yoshiko (maybe I should change that to the title, I didn't choose Darkness and Light to be edgy, I was just editing chapter one and noticed a lotta contrasting stuff and decided to roll with it). I hope you'll stick around and enjoy!


	4. Chapter 4

**OF DARKNESS AND LIGHT**

 **Chapter Four**

Both girls managed to catch a few z's before their morning labs (even if you weren't a science major the hour-long application classes were called "labs"). Yoshiko found the nap had made her even more tired. It had stopped her continuous forward motion, which had been kicked off by pure nerves, and now mental inertia made it hard to get the ball rolling again. In her murky exhaustion it seemed unreal that Hanamaru was her girlfriend. It seemed like a dream, another rug God put below her feet with the intention of yanking it out from under her. But, God, the look on her face after she had said that – if it had been real!

She lurched into the main room that served as a living room and kitchen, a sleep-puffy snort in sweat pants and a red and black M.U. hoodie, her hair in a messy ponytail and her backpack thrown over one shoulder. She found Hanamaru at their table, similarly exhausted and stuffing text books in her messenger bag, and the fear that them going out had only been a dream was blown away like the clouds that restless winter morning when she looked up, smiled warmly, and said, "Good morning, Yoshiko."

"'Mornin, Hanamaru." She was surprised by the softness in her voice. She laughed, and Maru laughed with her. It was good laughter. In it they grew closer. "How do people in relationships need caffeine in the morning? You… make me feel less tired." Yoshiko glanced aside, feeling as though she had said something lame.

Hanamaru wasn't looking at her like she was the world's biggest lame-o, though. Above her twin sets of purple duffel bags, her eyes shone happily. "Yeah, same here." She smiled at Yoshiko a moment longer before saying, "All the same, I hope you don't mind I bring some reinforcement with me to class." She held up a thermos. "Doesn't mean I like you any less."

"Oh, praise Satan's name," Yoshiko sighed, turning her eyes upward. "That means I won't have to go a morning without my Rescue." She opened the fridge and pulled out an orange can. A man wearing a hardhat hung from a grappling hook next to the logo: Morning Rescue. Becoming Yohane, she hissed, "Filled with enough energy to just blow your head off."

"Oh, Yoshiko, you goof," Maru giggled, feeling her love for her more strongly than ever. She thought again of kissing her, only instead of being outside in the lashing cold with the only warmth being at their lips, they would be swimming in warmth – their warmth, the warmth of their apartment. But, even though letting herself, plain old fat girl Hanamaru, love someone like Yoshiko was something she had consolidated, letting herself kiss her was a separate loan altogether.

"I have Women's Lit and Fiction Writing this afternoon. I'll be back at my usual time." Still smiling, she cast Yoshiko a wise glance. "Why couldn't you have picked the night before the lecture days to ask me out?"

At Meisei a full-time student's schedule was made up of three labs and three lecture halls. You had your labs three days out of the week, your lecs two.

"I had wanted to ask you out on Friday, but Kanan and Mari wouldn't let me."

"Aw, you went to them for relationship advice? That's kind of cute." Seeming to forget she had done the same, Maru loaded the last of her books into her bag and hoisted it over her shoulder. "What'd you say to them?"

Without thinking, Yoshiko's mouth fell open and she answered, "Only that I was bewildered by how my childhood friend could turn into the most beautiful woman who ever lived."

She had meant it, of course. Had thought it many times over the last week (and even a few additional times from high school onward). But, like with the tiredness remark, she wondered if that was okay. If she hadn't overstepped some boundary. She stood frozen in the kitchen, her posture evoking a hesitant question.

Hanamaru answered it by shaking her head as she took three steps over to Yoshiko, placed a hand on her shoulder, got on tip-toe, and kissed her. On second thought, she could consolidate this loan – her girlfriend had met the requirements. Yoshiko grunted in surprise, nearly dropping her drink. Before her eyes closed she saw Maru's eyebrows drawn down, as if concentrating on a good book. It was a good kiss, hard but not too forceful, the press of her chubby cheeks reassuring in their softness. Yoshiko had only just started to reach up and touch one with her free hand when Hanamaru planted a second, shorter kiss on her lips and pulled back.

Yoshiko stared at her through hooded eyes, lips still pursed, unable to stop the color dashing into her cheeks. Maru also had color in hers, if not brighter eyes. She smiled with the same hesitance Yoshiko had stood with moments ago and said, "That's what you get for being so adorable."

 _Question and answer_ , Yoshiko thought, head still reeling, lips still tingling with the memory of Maru's. _That's what you get when you pair a fallen angel with a chubby girl. A lot of hesitation. Question and answer. That's us._

Unaccustomed to such sweetness, she held up her can of Morning Rescue and said, "Ah, I see you wanna compete with this for blowing my head off."

"Can we stop talking about your head coming off? It's too macabre."

Yoshiko got her coat and hat on and the two of them headed out. Clouds formed a low, bruised ceiling overhead; later that morning it would snow.

"Date a writer and you get to hear some fancy-schmancy words," Yoshiko said. Her lips ached for another kiss, but she knew they couldn't out here, out in the cold. "Speaking of writing, how's yours coming?"

Maru shrugged. "Oh, you know. It's coming."

"Usually by now you'd have a draft to show me and Ruby. Don't tell me you have writer's block?"

"No, it's not like that or anything." Hanamaru seemed embarrassed. "Before three months ago, I'd show you and Ruby short stories. This time I'm working on a novel."

Yoshiko, thrown off from shock, nearly lost her footing on a patch of ice. Maru caught her by her arm.

"A book? Hey, that's a big deal!"

"It is," Maru agreed, sighing. "I'd be lying if I said I wasn't a little scared."

Yoshiko opened her mouth, about to say something about crushing whatever she was scared of, then snapped it shut when she saw the look on Hanamaru's face. Her brows lowered over glowing eyes, her face burning with hectic patches of pink. It was a face that admitted fear but did not also submit to it or the challenge it presented. She was face-to-face with a great monster, one born within her own head that went by the name of Talent, and she had no intention of backing down. Beaming with admiration, Yoshiko faced forward and put an extra strut in her walk.

"So, what's the book about?"

Hanamaru looked up and around, as if roused from a deep sleep. "Wuh-huh…? Oh." She grinned. "You'll have to read it to find out."

"Tch, Zuramaru, you tease."

"Patience, Yoshiko. Even I don't like keeping girls waiting for too long."

Yoshiko snorted and looked away, conscious of the double-entendre the two of them were playing at. She supposed if they were dating then one day they'd play at a more frank game of…

She shook her head, clearing it, and those thoughts went away easily enough. Yet still some residue clung as she glanced at the loaded-down messenger bag slapping Hanamaru's right buttock as she walked.

* * *

They parted ways at Sano St., Maru heading toward the same building she'd been going to for lit courses since freshman year, Yoshiko toward the less familiar and less loved computer sciences lab. She hated it mostly for its distance, which felt about a million light years away on cold days like today.

Thinking about how not twenty-four hours ago she had been a single girl, she pulled out her cell phone. There was a message from Mari. Yoshiko already knew what it said. She opened it and replied: _yep_ _i_ _asked her out._ _s_ _he said yes._

Mari had sent the message last night. Right now she would probably be in class, studying the chemical reactions of various medications or something. So Yoshiko pocketed her cell phone and continued on her cold way.

After Game Programming was done she stepped out with a bag full of homework and graded quizzes and a phone full of messages. When you told Mari something you told the whole squad something. Yoshiko didn't much mind the rite of telling them the news being yoinked from her, but she wasn't sure if Maru would feel the same way.

Dia's message implored her to be good to Hanamaru. Yoshiko responded that of course she would. Chika's expressed surprise at them ending up together. _w_ _here on earth have u been for the last 7 years?_ You sent a pun about ships setting sail. Yoshiko tsukkomi'd with one of her own, incorporating ahoy and "idiot" (aho). Riko gave a stiffly formal congratulations. Yoshiko tried loosening her up with: _thanks maybe youll see zuramaru and me in the next issue of yuri hime._ Kanan apologized for Mari getting out of control and invited them to a quick lunch at The Second Cup, kind of a double date thing if you will, sorry it's last-minute, but…

Yoshiko called Hanamaru, hoping class didn't go overtime for her.

It didn't. She picked up and in the background Yoshiko could hear shoes slapping tiles as the other lit majors left their classes. "Hey, Yoshiko. What's up?"

"I had to sit in lab and listen to the professor's voice instead of yours. For an entire hour." Yohane added, "It was a torment worse than eternal damnation." This was Yoshiko's admittedly odd way of turning on the charm.

"Aw, poor baby," Hanamaru said, too lightly to sound sincerely sympathetic.

Yoshiko scowled. "You're as mean as ever, Zuramaru."

"Coddling's never done you much good, as I always say." She paused. "But I'll cuddle you later to make up for it. How does that sound?"

"Marvelous! An indulgence fitting for a fallen angel of the highest echelon!"

"I'm honored to be dating such an angel."

Becoming Yoshiko again, she scratched her cheek and said, "Sorry if this is too last-minute, but do you wanna meet at… Hanamaru?" The sound of the shoes in the background had fallen away. She checked her phone and saw the timer still running. Dropped call. Or Maru's phone died. Either was possible; the thing was a relic and she wasn't too cool about charging it. Sighing, Yoshiko hung up and started to text Kanan back.

Her phone rang as she did. It was Maru. She picked up.

"I'm so sorry about that, Yoshiko!"

"It's fine, relax." Ol' Zuramaru sounded like she'd just run over a litter of puppies instead of having a call drop. "I was just wondering if you wanted to meet at The Second Cup for lunch. Kanan and Mari'll be there. Probably the rest of them, too, for all I know. You get their texts?"

"Yep." Maru giggled. "I guess you and I are… what do they call it… a 'hot item'?"

"You, maybe, but not me." That sentence was out of her mouth before she could stop it.

"Oh, Yoshiko," Maru said, and without a face to pair with her voice it was hard to tell if she was expressing affection or her usual self-depreciating disbelief: _You actually believe I'm attractive? Oh, Yoshiko._ There was a silence that wasn't unpleasant, then Hanamaru said, "Sure, let's go to The Second Cup. It can be our first date."

"Going double, sounds good." Now Yoshiko was really hoping she wouldn't find all seven of them there. "I'll see you there, babe. Bye."

"Bye."

Yoshiko hung up and saw that Riko had replied during their conversation. _step on a leggo yocchan._ Laughing, Yoshiko responded that she'd never heard of _that_ kind of plot twist in a yuri manga. When you had your friends by the balls (Riko's taking the form of a secret yuri manga fascination) you were obliged to squeeze for all they were worth.

* * *

Yoshiko and Hanamaru found Kanan and Mari inside The Second Cup, drinking sodas. Mari's head popped up as they entered and she stood, singing, "Here come the brides, all dressed in white…"

The white was snow. It was already coming down in thin sheets.

"Cut that out!" Yoshiko hissed, avoiding everyone's eyes.

Mari tried to look hurt, but her eyes twinkled too much to be convincing. "I just wanted to pay you back for the lovely song you played for Kanan and me when we got together."

"You did do that," Hanamaru said, laughing. She'd almost completely forgotten about that. She rubbed Yoshiko's shoulder. "That was really nice of you."

Her freshman year Yoshiko had taken up a kind of hobby horse for dee-jaying. She'd started at the campus radio station, spinning the hottest pop and rock songs for her fellow classmates (or anyone driving through Kawasaki who tuned into student radio for whatever reason). She lost that job after broadcasting a fake zombie apocalypse warning ("civil authorities in your area have reported that the bodies of the dead are rising from their graves and attacking the living"). After that she found work at a club near The Second Cup spinning and mixing trance and techno. She had gotten word that Kanan and Mari were official, Mari's unfortunate beard of a co-worker finally shaven off, and when they walked in Yoshiko had stopped the music, thrown a spotlight on them, and said, "Okay, guys, there is a hot new couple in the house tonight. Let's hear it for Kanan and Mari! This one's for you." She had then played Shiroi Honoo, a favorite of her mother's, an oldie but a goldie, and everyone made room on the dance floor for them.

 _Okay, yeah, I did do that,_ she admitted as she and Hanamaru scooted to their booth as fast as they could, applause rippling around them.

Kanan studied their faces as they sat down. Looking from one to the other, she said, "You two look tired."

They both nodded and Hanamaru yawned.

Yoshiko said, "We were up all night – _talking_ , so get those looks off your faces."

Kanan and Mari looked at each other, impressed. They knew of a couple in the med program who spent their first day together just talking for hours. Just recently they confirmed the rumors that they were engaged. And hadn't Mari's mother talked with her father for five hours after she got back from her first trip to Italy?

Not wanting to pressure them to tie the knot, they instead asked for a blow-by-blow of the confession.

"Was it sweet? Were there tears?" Turning to Kanan, Mari mewled, "Oh, Yoshiko-chan, zura. I've waited all my zura-ing life to hear you say this, zura!"

"Hanamaru," Kanan replied, awkwardly playing along, "I already fell once, yet I feel this ache…"

"This ache is in my gut," Yoshiko muttered. "God, I could puke."

"Yeah, you might wanna work on that accent, Mari," Hanamaru said, rubbing her tired eyes. "Right now you sound about as Shizuokan as Totoro."

Nonetheless, they obliged, telling the (rather anti-climactic) story of how they got together.

"It's good it happened simply, believe me," said Kanan. "Mari and I were a mess before we managed to start dating." She had been holding Mari's hand and now brought it up to kiss it.

Mari smiled at her before adding, "And you two have been through so much, especially you, Hanamaru. The last thing you need is more heartache."

Yoshiko looked at Hanamaru, feeling sad and feeling guilty for thinking she had been the unlucky one in the relationship department. The worst she supposed she had was a sort-of fling with Riko her sophomore year. It had ended with Riko crying and Yoshiko puzzling for several months over what she had done to hurt her. Riko told her that it was her who was hurting herself at the time, not letting herself love women in a good, healthy way and hating herself for sleeping with one – a kouhai, at that. That was good. That made it better. The two of them were able to bury it and leave it behind. That one night was no longer in them.

But, Hanamaru and Izumi… That fat fetishist was still in her and Maru had yet to find a way to get her out of her. _Small wonder, really. Me and Riko just had one night. They had an entire month._

After lunch as they walked toward their afternoon classes Yoshiko said, "That girl, Izumi… I guess she hurt you pretty bad, huh?"

Hanamaru looked bewildered. "I don't know what she did to me," she said honestly.

Yoshiko regarded this thoughtfully. "I don't want to do it, whatever it was."

Hanamaru looked up at her, loving her more for that. "I know, Yoshiko. You won't. Just give it time."

"Sure thing. We've got plenty of it."

Maru hugged her arm and they continued onward in the falling snow.

* * *

 **A/N:** I realize ending it there sounds sorta ominous, like, oh God, please tell me they have time. They do. They'll live a long, happy, gay life together. Hope you enjoyed, drop a review if you did. Next chapter, we find out that Yoshiko does _what_ in the bedroom? It's not what you think. /clickbait


	5. Chapter 5

a bit of tokyo know-how might help with this chapter, seeing as the characters discuss it at some length. i don't know a whole helluva lot about it myself, but hopefully my research didn't let me down. okay, so minato is a whole big subset of tokyo, the way numazu is a subset of shizuoka, and within minato are some little neighborhoods, the way uchiura is a small part of numazu. minato's not a cheap place to live. azabu is a famous spot for celebrities to live, so i like to think of it as japan's answer to hollywood. aoyama is also in minato. narimasu is not, it's actually in a dingy neighborhood up north, one of the cheapest places to live in tokyo. akihabara, or akiba for short, is kinda northeast. no idea how cheap/expensive it is there.

* * *

 **OF DARKNESS AND LIGHT**

 **Chapter Five**

Yoshiko was doing her hair one sunny morning when she felt Hanamaru bump into her. Her face popped up from behind in the mirror.

"Sorry," she said. "I need to brush my teeth."

Yoshiko shifted to the side. She smiled, liking the way they looked together in the mirror. They'd been dating for two weeks now.

"Careful, there," she said, "lest I catch your genius, Smartymaru."

Hanamaru gave her a mock-sour look, her mouth too full of toothpaste to reply. Yoshiko sang, "I'm dating a genius, I'm dating a genius."

Maru spat and mopped off her mouth. "It's not that big a deal."

"Dean's List for the fourth year in a row? C'mon, Zuramaru, that's a _huge_ deal!" Yoshiko leaned her head in, nuzzling her. "I'm so proud of you," she said softly and kissed her. Maru finally gave in, smiled, and gave Yoshiko a kiss of her own. She was conscious of how small the bathroom was and how closely they were forced to stand near each other. She was also conscious of how Yoshiko's chest and tummy felt against her own.

 _Get a hold of yourself, Hanamaru_ , she told herself, sidestepping into the hallway. _She's your girlfriend, sure. She might even love you. But the possibility of her actually wanting to go to bed with you is in the lowest percentile. You're smart enough to know that._

"I got a call from Ooda-san yesterday," she said.

"Our landlord?" Yoshiko poked her head out the door, rabid with Crest.

"The one and only. He said he wanted to meet with us soon. I scheduled us for Sunday afternoon. Think you can make that?"

She heard water run and Yoshiko spit. "Um… yeah." She stepped out into the main room and opened the fridge. "I wonder what he wants?"

"Probably to discuss our lease. It is almost up."

It was March. The last of winter kicked up one final dickens of a snowstorm, as if in petulant protest of the coming spring, and then quit. The sky, which had once been white with flurrying snow, was now deep blue with pink clouds of sakura buds on the trees. It was almost a year since Yoshiko and Hanamaru combined their wages – Maru's from the library, Yoshiko's from waitressing – to put a down payment on this apartment they now lived in. Finals were done, the Dean's List was released, and graduation was around the corner.

On Friday Yoshiko went to the computer sciences department office to meet with her adviser, who tallied up her credits and confirmed she was on track to graduate on March 28 along with everyone else. Meanwhile, in the lit department office, Hanamaru's adviser confirmed the same for her for March 29. He gave her the time and location of the ceremony, a clear case containing a poppy flower attached to a pin, and orders to invest in something nice and proper to wear to the ceremony if she hadn't already.

That night the nine of them ate at The Second Cup.

"Well," said Mari, holding up her encased poppy, "let's hear it for our Master's in medicine."

"Hear, hear," Kanan chimed along with everyone else. They all rarely drank at The Second Cup, but that night the booze flowed a little more freely. "We're almost there, babe. All we've got left is our Ph.D.!"

"Yep. Here's to another eight years at Meisei! Hear, hear!" Mari knocked back the last of her beer and blew heat from the fire it lit under her throat. "My God, we are going to be _old_ by the time we get out of here."

Dia fixed her with a disapproving glare. "Don't tell me you're going to give up on becoming a doctor over itchy feet?"

"Dia, your beloved family name makes me think of this manga, _Kurosawa, Master of Masturbation._ I just thought I should let you know." Mari laughed at her expression. "But no, I'll be staying, of course. I just don't like being in one place for too long."

"I hope you realize you can't go job-hopping with hospitals." Nothing daunted, Dia puffed up proudly. "It is too bad, though. While you're staying behind in Kawasaki, I know a certain someone who'll be going to Tokyo."

Chika, drunk on two sakes and unbound love for her friends and girlfriend, leaned so far over the table she was almost nose-to-nose with Dia. Her eyes swam with delight. "Really? Who?"

Dia's smirk fell. "Me."

"You're going to Tokyo?" Kanan asked, surprised. "What's in Tokyo?"

"What _isn't_ in Tokyo?" Chika gushed, rounding on her. Riko had begun trying to tug her back into her seat by her shirt.

"I mean," said Kanan, waving Chika's boozebreath out of her face, "what's in Tokyo for Dia?"

Dia's old smile returned as she declared, "The future!"

"The future, zura?" Hanamaru asked. "As in… flying cars?"

Dia tsked and wagged a finger in her direction. "Not that future, Maru-chan. I'm talking about my future. I plan to make it big. And you can't get much bigger in Japan than Tokyo!"

Hanamaru, who'd lived most of her life in small, old Numazu, fixed Dia with a wide-eyed stare of admiration. She wasn't alone. Most of them were giving her similar looks.

Riko wasn't, however. She was giving her one of concern.

"Which neighborhood?" she asked.

"Aoyama," Dia said proudly. "A bit steep, but it's a nice neighborhood with nicer jobs."

Riko nodded assent. "Got one lined up?"

Dia sank a little. "No." She puffed back up. "It shouldn't be hard, though. I made the Dean's List all four years, got all A's in all my courses. As far as Kawasaki goes, I'm the best political scientist there is."

 _You'll find Tokyo's a lot different than Kawasaki_ , thought Riko, who'd grown up in Akiba. That thought had almost gone spoken, but tonight was a happy one meant for celebration. So she resigned to sipping her drink while her ever-worried mind obsessively pecked away at why this was a bad idea.

"Um… She's not the only one going to Tokyo…"

They all turned toward Ruby. At twenty-two she no longer styled her hair in pigtails; sometimes she braided it or tied it up in a business-like bun. Most times, like tonight, she let it wave and curl just past her shoulders.

Riko looked relieved. "Going together? At least that'll make rent easier."

But Ruby was shaking her head. "I'll be living near Narimasu Station. And I'm not going just because sis is. I… I got a job out there and the Tojo line's the cheapest commute."

"Where is this job?" Maru asked.

Ruby shifted in her seat, looking extremely uncomfortable. "Well, it's an internship with _Hoshi Weekly_ , I'll be assisting one of their writers…"

"Enough stalling, young lady," Mari sang, chopping a hand through thin air. "Where is this lucrative job?"

Ruby sighed. "… It's in Azabu."

The entire table fell silent, save for Mari's hushed "holy _shit_." Ruby avoided all their gazes.

"Well," said Yoshiko, sitting back with wide eyes, "you won't be living in Narimasu for long on that paycheck."

Both sisters could live in Minato on their family's yen alone under better circumstances. As it was, their parents had told them that if they didn't want to work for Kurosawa Fishing Inc. then they'd live like people who didn't. Dia had been upset and Ruby admittedly missed that old comfy allowance the first few weeks into living independently… but later on she did concede it was fair. She'd been almost nineteen when their parents yanked their funds – almost too old to rely on mom and dad. And she supposed she had always wanted to forge a future independent of the Kurosawa name – her future wasn't in fish – and if she was going to do that, she'd do it all the way, good and bad together.

"I've one more year 'til I get my Master's," said Riko, stirring her drink. "I guess it'll be us three in the Paw Pad one more year, right?"

The Paw Pad was a name Chika had given their dingy two-room last year.

You was shaking her head. "Sorry, mates, but this sailor's jumpin' ship."

"What?" Chika looked devastated. "You can't! It'll be one-third less fun without you!"

You grinned. "Oh, please, you two will find a way. I can only lose so much sleep over you guys stemming the rose in the next room." She laughed as Riko blanched, then placed a hand over her mouth and pitched her voice in imitation of her. "'Oouhh, Chika, we need to keep it down or we'll wake You.' You already woke me, so just screw each other's brains out so it'll be worth it."

They laughed at You's impersonation, Riko's face which was almost as red as her hair, and Chika's sheepish grin. Then, huffily, Riko asked, "And what peaceful, sex-free place will you be going to? Just know that if it's Tokyo, well, you're out of luck on both counts."

"I'm not going to Tokyo. I'm going home."

Riko's face went from anger to shock so quickly it was like watching all the bolts that held it together come falling off, leaving it slack. You laughed.

"Home?" Chika said. "Uchiura?"

"Yes, Chika," she replied, amused. "I believe that is the place you and I call home." She sighed. "My dad's ships aren't going to repair and sail themselves. He needs me. And I'd rather be at sea than up here drinking and partying all the time."

"To going home, hear hear!" Mari cheered and they raised their glasses once more.

Chika hugged her. "I'm still gonna miss you."

"Aw, you'll be fine. You'll help Riko get her Master's and you'll make out alright." You pulled back. "I'll call, okay? And I hope you'll do the same."

Chika nodded, tears bulging over her lower eyelids. She wasn't normally the sort to cry in front of everyone, but tonight had some power over all of them that they were unable to resist. Maru finished off her sake, thinking that the nine of them weren't the only ones under tonight's spell. All across campus, other families of friends were toasting endings and new beginnings. She looked around The Second Cup, her beloved hideaway for the past four years, and reflected on how for Dia, Ruby, and You this would probably be their last night here.

"And you two?" You asked, turning the periscope of _S.S. Conversations About the Future_ on to Maru and Yoshiko while Riko attempted to console her weeping girlfriend (with tears of her own glittering in her eyes).

Hanamaru looked toward Yoshiko, who shook her head and turned her palms upward.

"I don't plan on working on a Master's," Maru said, taking one of Yoshiko's upturned hands in both of her own. "What about you, Yoshiko?"

"No," she said. "Too much money."

"Think you might stay here?" Kanan asked.

They looked at each other, searching for answers and finding none. They looked back at Kanan, still searching but knowing this was a question she could not answer.

* * *

Hanamaru finished her writing for that night well after midnight. Her pencil fell from a hand that steamed from the work. She had filled a whole notebook with part of her first draft and was on notebook number two. She had learned last year that Margaret Mitchell had packed the first draft of _Gone with the Wind_ into all of thirty notebooks.

She grabbed her writing supplies off the table and switched off the lights. Moving carefully in the dark, she noticed a slant of warm light thrown from Yoshiko's open bedroom door. She moved toward it, smiling, thinking to

 _(sleep with)_

say good night to her.

 _(a very long good night that'll end with good morning)_

She shook her head of those thoughts as easily as a dog shakes off fleas. Even if Yoshiko wanted to do that, an infinitesimally teeny-tiny possibility of that happening but hey let's just say, even if she wanted to, Maru had burned her hand out on writing.

 _Your hand, yes, but your mouth isn't out of commission_ , and Hanamaru felt erotic fire explode within her, engulfing her skin in its tingling, burning flames. _Stop that_ , she thought, trying to cool her head by thinking of other things. _That is crossing a line you're not meant to cross. You can't do that._

"Zuramaru?"

Hanamaru looked up and saw she had wandered over to Yoshiko's bedroom. She was sitting at her computer, twisting around so she could look at her.

Maru swallowed, and her throat was so dry she could feel it scraping together. "Sorry. I just… came to say good night."

"You okay? You don't look so good."

"Well, thanks for the vote of confidence, but I already know that."

"You know what I mean," Yoshiko said, frowning. "You're beautiful as hell, but you look like you're under the weather."

"Do I now?" Hanamaru didn't need to feel her forehead to know it was hot, but she did anyway to humor Yoshiko. The last thing she needed in this state was to pull the old forehead-fever-testing-touch cliché. "I guess I am a little feverish."

"Well, you know, get some aspirin, fluids, and rest."

 _And a cold shower._ Maru almost laughed. _"You're beautiful as hell." "Get some aspirin, fluids, and rest." God help me, I love her._ She went in to kiss Yoshiko good night, longing to feel her lips against her own but knowing that if she wanted to keep up this sick pretense she would have to settle for her cheek. Still, she lingered afterward, her lips brushing against Yoshiko's smooth skin, and Yoshiko smiled.

"Hey," she said softly, taking Maru's hand, "what would you say to sleeping in my bed tonight?"

Maru jerked back, eyes wide. Yoshiko flushed.

"I didn't mean like _that_ , Pervertmaru!"

"You said it, not me." Maru tried a wise smirk, but her insides were going hot and cold, dark clouds of nervousness and heat lightning of desire.

"I meant sleeping and nothing else. Like couples do, right?"

"Either way, are you sure? You'll catch my germs."

Yohane responded, "Do you really think our blood contract is so weak that a few lowly parasites could affect it?"

"I thought it was that one girl who went to Brazil who had the parasites…"

"Oh, fuck you, Zuramaru!" Yoshiko squeaked indignantly, but she was laughing.

"See, I knew that was why you wanted me in your bed."

"We probably could, since you seem to be feeling so much better!"

Hanamaru laughed with her. She did indeed feel less hot and bothered. The heat was still there, but it no longer burned so much as glowed, pleasant and affectionate. It pushed her to plant a few more soft kisses on Yoshiko's mouth.

"Okay," she said quietly, "I'll spend tonight with you. We'll sleep and do nothing else." She thought to trace a finger along her lower lip, didn't quite have the nerve to, and settled for booping her nose.

That night Yoshiko fell into a sleep far better than any she had ever experienced, letting herself be pulled away in its gentle waves, her nose full of Hanamaru's scent, her body full of the soft push of hers and the gentle sweep of her hair, her ears full of her quiet breathing.

* * *

 **A/N:** i know i gave a kinda clickbaity preview about yohane's somnolent habits. looks like that's been pushed to next chapter. let's hear it for poorly-planned fanfics. hear, hear! *drinks* also i should probably move this to m, but they haven't really done anything yet, idk how to work the system, but i'll do that just in case.


	6. Chapter 6

back at it again. enjoy.

* * *

 **OF DARKNESS AND LIGHT**

 **Chapter Six**

Yoshiko swam back up to wakefulness slowly. She cracked her eyes open to find Hanamaru not cuddled up against her but propped up on an elbow and staring down at her.

Yoshiko's eyes snapped open and she jerked away. "Why are you watching me sleep? Creepymaru…"

Maru shrugged. "There's not many other things to do in the middle of the night when you can't sleep because of a certain someone's snoring."

Yoshiko glared. "I do _not_ snore."

 _Right. And I do_ not _weigh too much._ "You do, though, Yoshiko. It's like sleeping next to a sawmill." She tried not to smile at her girlfriend's indignant expression; as if the great fallen angel Yohane would do something so brutish as snore! "A cute sawmill, but a sawmill nonetheless."

Yoshiko blushed, grumped, let her head fall back against the pillow. She squinted at the sweet spring air. It was sweet because it was full of pollen, and pollen filled her eyes with tears and her nose with snot. She sneezed.

"Maybe if you took allergy medicine your sinuses would clear and you wouldn't snore so much," Maru suggested.

"I already take some to help me sleep."

Hanamaru swung her legs over her side of the bed and stood. Her hair was messy, so she did get some sleep. Maybe. Her face said otherwise. Yoshiko regarded it guiltily before saying, "Look, this was my idea. I'm sorry."

Hanamaru looked at her, surprised, then shook her head. "It's not your fault. I wanted to do this, too. I had no idea you snored." She smirked. "Apparently, neither did you."

Yoshiko glowered, her blush creeping back up her cheeks. "Well, it just so happens that I didn't go to sleep with any of the other girls I dated. You're my first."

Maru's grin dropped so fast Yoshiko had to laugh. She was clever, but she was still a virgin, and a clumsy one at that. The idea of Yoshiko falling asleep – loud or otherwise – in the arms of no one else but her made her legs weak. It looked like that mood of hers from last night wasn't going to go away so easily. She would probably even have to kill it with a douche.

Yoshiko watched her fidget and blush before she got up and put a hand on her shoulder. "C'mon, Zuramaru, I'll make us some breakfast before I go to work."

* * *

Yoshiko worked at McDonald's. Not the most glamorous job ever, but a fledgling game creator had to start somewhere. By the time she got off at around two o'clock she was exhausted and ready for a nap.

"Yoshiko?"

Startled, her eyes flew open and she found Ruby at the bus stop. Attempting to conceal the shock she gave her, Yoshiko lowered her voice and let a hand fall on her shoulder.

"Demon number two hundred and one, what have I told you about the proper way to address me?"

"Y-Yohane-sama…?" Ruby's eyes darted all around, trying to avoid the stares they were attracting and the unsettling stare of her warlock.

Yohane tutted and wagged a finger at her. "A slow learner, that is you, Demon #201. But, is a fallen angel not at her teaching best with slow learners?" She threw back her head and laughed, a master demonologist in a stinky McDonald's uniform. It was all too easy to imagine her stirring fries in a cauldron of cooking oil, chanting a spell which might make the ice cream machine break every other day instead of every single day, and Ruby tentatively laughed, her eyes still on their audience. Had she been more like Hanamaru she could have told Yoshiko straight-up to stop it, and she was frustratingly aware of this fact.

Fortunately the bus ride took some of the oomph out of Yoshiko's weirdness, and the steady rocking of the vehicle sent her to sleep, the long day pouring out of her like bad sweat. She awoke a stop before theirs. Blinking, she lifted her head off Ruby's shoulder and noticed a book about Tokyo in her lap. _Must be preparing to move, that was why she was downtown_ , she thought blearily. Then she looked up.

She gazed around, eyes drifting from one disgusted glare to the next. Men, women; teachers, students; everyone on the bus had their eyes on her. One time in middle school a classmate had fallen asleep in math class and had let out a long, mellow fart. The looks the class and the teacher had dropped upon her weren't unlike the ones these people were giving Yoshiko now and fear bloomed in her chest.

"I didn't cut one, did I?" she whispered, turning to Ruby.

"No," she said, but the look on her face said she had done something.

"Why is everyone staring at me, then? I know it's not proper to sleep on the bus, but hell, we've all done it."

"It might have been because you were snoring."

"I _don't_ snore," Yoshiko said, a little too forcefully, and Ruby flinched back.

"Y-Yeah," she agreed quietly.

Sighing, Yoshiko sat back and looked around again. The looks of disgust on everyone's faces had deepened. She could practically hear their thoughts: _Bad enough she snores, but she has the gall to deny it and any responsibility for it. What an asshole._ And Yoshiko had to admit these strangers probably wouldn't stare at her for no reason at all.

They got off at their stop. Yoshiko's place was west, Ruby's east. Yoshiko headed north.

"Where are you going?" Ruby asked.

"I need something from the store," Yoshiko answered, and after some hesitation Ruby followed.

The store in question was little more than a convenience shop, and it looked out of place among the apartment buildings. But they had a small health and medicine section. Yoshiko wasn't very hopeful about finding what she needed there, but for once in her unlucky life hope sprang eternal. She grabbed the item, then grabbed a few random things. She didn't need these extra things, but she was hoping they'd divert the cashier's attention from the main thing.

It didn't work. The cashier scanned the nasal strips, then looked from them to Yoshiko as if she had three heads. She tried to stare back placidly. After the transaction was finished she fished out the pocket of strips and tossed them to Ruby saying, "Here. Dunno why you couldn't buy them yourself. It's just snoring."

Ruby fumbled with the packet and squeaked as the cashier turned his flat, judgmental gaze on her.

"You're horrible!" she yelled, dashing after Yoshiko, face hot.

"Yeah, I know. Sorry." Yoshiko was laughing. She paused, dug out her hanky from her back pocket, and sneezed into it. Blinking and sniffing she asked, "Could I have those back please?"

Ruby thought to not hand them over since Yoshiko did say back there that they were for her. She did anyway.

"Honey, I'm home!" Yoshiko crowed as she stepped through the door. "I've always wanted to say that."

Her honey was asleep, her face mashed against her notebook, a puddle of drool blurring the phrase "she was caught…" into something unintelligible. After incurring the loss of last night's sleep, Hanamaru's regular naptime had to go into overtime. Yoshiko cocked her head, listening for the deep rumble of snoring. Surely someone of her weight would snore, right? She wasn't the only one who snored, was she? As it was, all she heard was the soft pull and release of her girlfriend's breath.

* * *

She had set the nasal strips next to Maru's head, thinking of how the first thought she'd have upon waking was that the snoring problem was fixed. Instead Maru had panicked, thinking the strips were for her.

" _I_ don't snore, do I?"

"No, Zuramaru, they're for me."

"Oh." Yoshiko found herself feeling needled by how relieved she looked. "Then, why are they next to me?"

"No reason." She took them back and wandered off to her room. She was irritated at the whole situation. A couple should sleep together at the same time, not apart and in shifts. Though seldom discussed in divorce courts, snoring was the stuff that had the power to ruin marriages. _And I'm the one who snores. I'm the cause of all this. It's all my fault._

She shook her head, made herself look at the nasal strips, made herself think that these would solve the problem and this whole thing wouldn't amount to more than a pisshole in snow.

* * *

Yoshiko woke the next morning to find Hanamaru's side of the bed empty. Panicking, she swung her legs out of bed and dressed as fast as she could. _Why didn't my alarm go off? What time is it?_

Suddenly, behind her, Pachelbel chimed away on her phone. Its lit screen proclaimed it to be 9 AM.

Eyebrows cocked, the nasal strip a sticky animal skin rug across the bridge of her nose, she looked back and forth between the empty bed and her phone. She then noticed Maru's pillows were also gone, and the bitter tang of worry crept up her stomach and throat.

"Sorry, Yoshiko," Hanamaru said later as they waited for the bus downtown. She took a quick glance around, then pecked her cheek.

"No, it's fine. It's not your fault."

"It's not yours either."

Yoshiko grunted, looked away.

"Yoshiko, it's not." Hanamaru grabbed her arm and held it until she looked, morosely, back at her. "Snoring's not your fault anymore than getting chicken pox on our third year field trip was mine. You didn't ask for it. It just is."

"Yes, dear."

Maru sighed and shook her head. "See, this is what I'm talking about when I say coddling –"

"…doesn't do me much good. You sound like my mother when you say that, Zuramaru."

"Well, I think you both sound like you've been together for twenty-three years instead of twenty-three days!"

They jumped at Mari's voice and whirled around.

Yoshiko said, "I mean, we have known each other for almost twenty – wait, how long have you been behind us? What're you doing here?"

Mari shrugged innocently. "Waiting on the bus."

"Don't you normally drive?" Hanamaru asked.

"I do, but Dia's in a real piss-up-a-rope mood about her car. She wants to save all the mileage and usage and whatever else for Tokyo. I think she's just got cold feet." She placed each hand upon their heads and ruffled their hair. "And to answer your first question, Yoshiko, I was here long enough to hear you compare Hanamaru to your mother. _Mamma mia_ , aren't you two the married couple!"

They got off at separate stops. After Mari disembarked Hanamaru turned to Yoshiko and continued where they left off: "You think everyone sounds like your mother, but that's okay, I understand that kind of. Our landlord reminds me a bit of my dad."

Yoshiko, who had never properly met either of her girlfriend's parents, laughed nervously. "Oh God, poor you. That man is _scary_."

Ooda, their landlord, was a thin, old, bald man who wore glasses. Frowning, he studied the two of them before saying, "I'll get straight to the point, ladies. Our landlord-tenant relationship has been rather strained over the last year, yes?"

Hanamaru swallowed and ran over a list of crimes they had committed in her head. Keeping a secret cat who puked all over the carpet. Clogging the toilet with supposedly flushable menstrual products. Turning the freezer into a makeshift AC unit with the help of a fan and causing a circuit break. Never once did she think the two of them were not guilty.

While she squirmed under the hard gaze of Ooda, Yoshiko looked around in hopes of finding something to draw his attention elsewhere and lighten the mood. Her eyes fell on the photos of beaming little kids lined up on his desk.

"H-How are your grandkids doing, Ooda-san?"

He looked from the pictures to her. His flat expression never changed. "Those aren't my grandkids. Those are my kids when they were little. My grandchildren have been ground up for fertilizer under your feet or whatever it is they do with aborted fetuses. Six kids and not a single grandchild among them. Isn't that nice? I'm using the money I saved for weddings to buy my daughters a whorehouse. Now then…" He took to riffling through his papers, leaving Yoshiko to stare at Hanamaru with a face that screamed, That's _what your father's like?_ "You are all caught up on rent and fines for your… transgressions. You signed a first-up-last-up contract in March last year and this is your last month. If you stay, it'll be month-to-month, as per our contract. If you're leaving, be out by April 1st."

"Okay, so he's not a _lot_ like my dad," Maru said as they left. "We never asked about his personal life ever. It's moreso the baldness and strictness that makes me think of him."

"Who knew Ooda was such a _weirdo?_ " Sniffling, Yoshiko looked at the flower garden outside the office building and wondered if he was telling the truth when he said aborted babies helped push up the daisies. "I'd rather not stick around with him as our landlord, but if you wanna stay I'll do it."

Maru shook her head. "No, I want to move. We should start apartment hunting as soon as possible."

First they had dinner at The Second Cup. They found Kanan there with Riko, and the familiar tote bag with the anchor keychain suggested You was there as well, just in the restroom.

"Kanan," Yoshiko said slowly, fiddling with a napkin, "I don't suppose… as a med student… you would know anything about snoring?"

Riko snorted, then laughed.

"Some," Kanan said. "Who snores?"

Avoiding Riko's eyes, Yoshiko replied, "Me." She leaned forward and lowered her voice. "I tried these nasal strip things, but they're not working."

"Then it's not a nasal problem but an oral one."

"Just like all her problems," Riko teased.

 _You certainly didn't think so that one night two years ago._ But Yoshiko couldn't say that. It wasn't proper to talk with an old fuck about the time you fucked in front of your new girlfriend. Yoshiko glanced aside at Hanamaru, wondering what color bra she was wearing.

Meanwhile Kanan was explaining how snoring worked. "Your soft palate becomes completely relaxed when you fall asleep and falls against your uvula, closing off air passage. When you breathe these tissues vibrate, creating the snoring sound. Do you sleep on your back, Yoshiko?"

Both her and Hanamaru nodded.

"That's a contributing factor. If you slept on your side your palate wouldn't fall back on your airway."

Yoshiko frowned, knowing she could never get herself to sleep in any position but her back, which she'd slept on for as long as she could remember.

"Ear plugs," Riko suggested. They turned to look at her and she went on, self-consciously, "I wore those freshman year while trying to sleep in LAS. It gets really rowdy there, as I'm sure you can attest, Hanamaru. But those earplugs shut everything out. They were like magic."

Maru smiled and cupped her chin in her hand thoughtfully.

Yoshiko couldn't contain herself any longer. "Bermuda Gay comes through for her girls! Great moments in history! Let's hear it for -"

"Stuff it," Riko said, blushing.

You returned to their table, her face lit up with excitement. "Have you guys _seen_ the new waitress?"

They all craned their necks, and Yoshiko noticed every girl in the place doing the same. The waitress in question was a burly butch, the sleeves of her denim shirt rolled up to expose strong forearms, a glittering stud in her lower lip.

"Yowza," she remarked.

You pulled out a case containing disposable contact lenses. "I always carry these in case someone like her should turn up." She pocketed her glasses, popped the lenses in, and stood. "Well, ladies, I think I'll be showing this newcomer around town, help her adjust. Ahoy!" She sketched a smart salute and headed off.

Riko called after her, "If you bring her home tell her not to touch my -"

"Your pudding, I know."

Riko smiled, shaking her head good-naturedly. If You got the waitress she would probably be her first lay ever in Kawasaki. And it wasn't as if she was hard-up for choices. Riko had been to enough parties with her to know there were plenty of girls who wanted to screw the socks off of her. But, underneath that sunny attitude and those perfectly-sculpted muscles was a shy, old-fashioned gal for whom sex was the peak expression of one's affection. _Or at least that was what it used to be_ , Riko thought, watching You chat up the waitress. _Going back to Uchiura must've put her in a good mood._ She sighed, feeling somewhat responsible for her leaving.

Yoshiko and Hanamaru, meanwhile, were recounting their meeting with their landlord and talking about their desires to find a new home.

"Why not move in with us?" Riko offered.

"You and Chika?" Maru asked.

Riko nodded. "You leaving frees up a bedroom. We were talking about finding a single-bedroom apartment, but I think Chika would be amenable to staying if you guys joined us. You should probably also talk to her about it, though, just to be safe."

"Doesn't it have mice?" Yoshiko asked. "And your bathroom is hella scary."

Riko threw her hands up and rolled her eyes. "Take it or leave it."

Yoshiko thought about it and came to the decision that mice made better company than some old guy who reminded you that the ground you walked on was full of dead babies.

"Oh, alright. Bermuda Gay comes through once again. She was born to make history!"

"I'll make you history if you call me that again, Yocchan."

* * *

i once had a manager who told me pretty much the same thing the landlord said about his aborted grandkids and buying his daughters a whorehouse. i got to thinking about that and thought, _oh, this absolutely must go somewhere in this fic._ when you have an interesting experience or hear people say interesting things as a writer you are obligated to include it in your writing.

next chapter: graduation! we'll be meeting yoshiko and zuramaru's families and saying goodbye to college. i hope you'll tune in and review it and this chapter too.


	7. Chapter 7

just a heads-up, there is a suicide mention in this chapter. it's not about suicide, but it does go mentioned in a conversation. you've been warned.

* * *

 **OF DARKNESS AND LIGHT**

 **Chapter Seven**

"What was your earliest gay memory?"

Yoshiko looked up from the book she was reading and around at Hanamaru. "What?"

"You know…" Maru pulled her end of the covers up over her legs. "That moment in your childhood you look back on and retrospectively think, _Huh, I was really gay there. I can't believe I didn't realize sooner._ "

"Ah…" Yoshiko had a memory like that, alright, but looking at Hanamaru's open, earnest face made it a bit difficult to talk about it. "What was yours?"

"It happened one day when my mom took me out to get my hair cut. I couldn't have been older than five. I always got the same cut, but I flipped through magazines all the time while waiting to look at various styles. I turn the page and _boom!_ there's this ad for a bra that gives you REAL CLEAVAGE, whatever that means, with this woman grabbing her breasts and looking down at them in shock." She laughed, then went on, sounding reproachful toward her younger self, "I'd flipped through that whole magazine without pausing until I reached that page. I must've stayed on it for the remainder of the wait period. I couldn't take my eyes off it."

"Little Zuramaru got worked up." Yoshiko laughed, imagining meek and mild temple girl Hanamaru's dander going up over the delights of agnostic mortals.

"I did, I guess," Maru said, shaking her head. She didn't even really know what those things were or what they were for, but she knew she wanted them. "Anyway, that was mine. What was yours?" She grinned and thumbed her girlfriend's nose. "What got little Yoshiko-chan worked up?"

"My first grade teacher." Technically wasn't her earliest, but Zuramaru couldn't know that, unless she was a really observant five-year-old… and, let's face it, she wasn't exactly an observant twenty-two-year-old. "I used to think I really admired her for no particular reason… Well, 'admired' is putting it lightly. 'Obsessed' might be the better word. I loved the hell out of that lady."

"Hm. Was she cute?"

"Very." Yoshiko remembered thinking she had been old, but looking back, she thought sensei might have actually been fresh out of college. "She was like a big old teddy bear. A teddy bear that spoke with an Osaka accent."

"That third baseman you dated was from Akita, right?"

"Yeah. Why?"

Hanamaru laughed. "You have a type. Stocky girls with accents."

"Oi! Zuramaru!" Blushing, Yoshiko chucked a throw pillow at her. Maru laughed harder. "You and I are both from Shizuoka, so I think you get a free pass."

"It's a bit late for you to make passes at me," Hanamaru said, yawning. She marked her place in her book and set it aside. "I'm exhausted. Good night, Yoshiko." They kissed and she settled under the covers, ear plugs screwed in.

Yoshiko laid down for the night shortly after. She didn't tell Hanamaru her earliest gay memory, but she could remember it. She fell asleep and began to dream.

* * *

She was six.

Yoshiko had grown again and needed new shoes. Her ma agreed to take her to get some that weekend. It so happened that the books Naoko had ordered via inter-library loan were ready for pickup, so she took Yoshiko out to lunch and made a day of it. They stopped at the library last. Ma took Yoshiko to the children's section downstairs and told her to be a good girl and wait patiently while she took care of business.

Yoshiko tried being patient, but she was a little kid so naturally she got bored and went wandering. She browsed the small shelves, occasionally looking down at her feet to admire the way her new shoes lit up.

"Yoshiko-chan?"

She recognized the voice immediately and started to reply just as she was turning around. "Hi, Hanamaru-cha–"

Her waving hand froze midflap and her mouth dried out from lips to throat. Never before in her small little life had she felt so unmanned and helpless.

She supposed of course it was natural Hanamaru wouldn't be wearing her uniform and nametag over the weekend. Nonetheless, Yoshiko didn't know she could look so good out of them. She was wearing a sunny yellow dress and white shoes. The dress looked as light as a summer breeze, her hair falling in curls just above her pale bare shoulders. Had she been ten years older Yoshiko could have taken refuge in Yohane, but that was years away and she was still little and confused and embarrassed and scared and cornered.

Maru seemed to have noticed. "Are… you okay?"

"Eh? Yeah." Yoshiko's heartbeat was a warm hammer in her ears. She wondered if Hanamaru could hear it. She turned her eyes upward, finding relief in looking away from her. Lines of conversation were whirling through her head. She thought to say, "They have a lot of good books here" and wound up saying, "They sure have books a lot here."

The bemused smile she would make a lot as a young woman ghosted across Maru's young face. "Well, we _are_ in a library."

"They're such pretty girls," Yoshiko grinned, patting the rows of spines. She knew she looked idiotic, but she couldn't seem to help herself. "Also, I got new shoes."

Hanamaru looked down and Yoshiko planted a foot to show her how they lit up. Zuramaru had just about blown a gasket, exclaiming about how they were living in the future until a staff member shushed her, and that made it better. That made Yoshiko feel like she was talking to her friend, not some outrageously beautiful creature she wasn't good enough for.

Mrs. Kunikida had come around then, whispering that it was time to go. Hanamaru, still up over the moon over those light-up shoes, turned to her and said, "Mama, can I have shoes like Yoshiko-chan's?"

Mrs. Kunikida, a tired-looking woman with light brown hair, looked at Yoshiko and nodded an awkward greeting. "Maybe for your birthday, Hanamaru. But we need to get home. Your father's got this weird idea that he can cook so we need to be there before he can start on 'dinner.'"

Maru got a serious look on her face and nodded, following her mama toward the stairs. "See you tomorrow, Yoshiko-chan."

"See you, Zuramaru." She froze, wondering if it had really been okay to call her that in front of her mother.

But for a wonder Mrs. Kunikida was laughing. "Oh, I like her. C'mon, Maru, let's get home before Zuranosuke can boil those toadstools he found under the Yamadas' doghouse."

For no reason at all Yoshiko took one last look at Hanamaru as she raced up the stairs and – this had been the killing blow – found herself looking up her dress at her clean white underwear. This had shot a feeling through her that was less affectionate than earlier and more primitive. It had been huge, mercifully brief, meaningless to her small body in which her endocrine glands slept without dreaming. But it had her, and she spent the rest of the time waiting for her ma sitting alone at a table, a book about witches open and unread before her, her cheeks hot, her stomach rolling out strange feelings down her legs with every turn. She imagined them married, indulging in things she didn't yet understand.

Tsushima Naoko observed her daughter's weird behavior when she apologized for taking too long and Yoshiko didn't voice any irate complaints as she usually did. Driving home, she had grinned and asked, "It is a boy?"

Yoshiko's response had been absent, almost adult-like. She had looked up and around at her ma, shook her head, and returned to spacing out. Naoko would also look back on this moment as a gay one in her daughter's life. Gay, straight, or bi, girls freaked out when teased about their crushes. If she had thought to ask, "Is it a girl?" she probably would have elicited a much stronger reaction from Yoshiko. And even further down the line, Naoko would look back and smile, thinking, _It was Hanamaru-chan. Library, spacing out, elementary dear Wattson. Yoshiko's loved her since the beginning…_

* * *

Eyes still closed, Yoshiko shut off her alarm. Hanamaru was snuggled up against her. She dragged a soft hand up and down Yoshiko's stomach. Sighing tiredly, Yoshiko rolled onto her side and stretched an arm across Hanamaru before letting it fall over her waist.

"Morning," Yoshiko muttered.

"Good morning, Yoshiko."

She took a deep breath, letting Maru's scent fill her lungs. It was a spicy smell, faintly fabulous. It was the smell of books, of the library. She liked that smell, and, kissing her, wondered if she smelled like the computer lab and if Hanamaru liked that scent.

They kissed a few more times until Yoshiko groaned involuntarily. Maru, surprised, pulled back. She had never heard Yoshiko moan before. It was kind of cute, but Hanamaru had to wonder if she would really moan over her, a tub of guts with all the sexual charm of a pile of dirt.

She did, and apparently she would some more. She nuzzled Hanamaru fondly, whispering, "You feel good, you know that?"

Maru laughed. "I… was not aware of that."

Yoshiko kissed her some more, and Maru thought, _She doesn't feel too bad herself, though._ She put a hand behind Yoshiko's head, blue hair tangling in her fingers, pulling her closer, trying to deepen the kiss. Her ears were full of the hushed whisper of her breath.

Maybe it was the time of day, maybe this was just how it was with sex, but Hanamaru felt blissful unreality wash over her as she made out with her girlfriend in her bed. This was a place she never thought she'd be, and she let herself revel in the dream of being desired, of being sexy.

It was Yoshiko's body pressing closer to hers, her breasts pressing against Maru's right where the pushing against is best (or worst), only two layers of cotton between them, that woke her up and, grunting, she jerked back, breaking their kiss with a loud smack.

Yoshiko looked up, her face rosy, her lips a deep pink. "You okay?"

Hanamaru blinked, trying to re-order her brain. Nipples. Yoshiko's. She had felt them right on hers. Small, hard. God. "I'm fine… I just… that is, to say… uh…" She felt so hot and wet she was pretty sure her clitoris was boiling.

Yoshiko watched her hem and haw, then smiled and propped herself up on an elbow. "Hanamaru, are you perhaps not ready?"

"I'm twenty-two. I should be."

" _Are_ you?"

Maru was sitting upright, cross-legged, tugging her baggy T-shirt as far over her lap as it would go. Finally she looked down and said, "No."

Yoshiko nodded, then rolled upright so she was also sitting. "Y'know, that's fine. In order for your first time to be good you have to be ready and never sooner. That's what my ma told me."

She noticed Hanamaru appeared to be shaking and thought maybe she was crying, angry with herself for spoiling the mood or something. Yoshiko leaned in, head tilted, thinking of some clever lines to cheer her up with. Then Maru threw her head back and laughed.

"Your 'ma'?"

"Yeah, my ma. So what?"

"You call your mother 'ma.' Oh, Yoshiko, you are so sweet."

Zuramaru practically was crying, she was laughing so hard. Yoshiko glared.

"Oh, and what high and mighty title of honor do you refer to your mother by? Your Grace?"

" _Okaa-san_. You know, like most adults do?"

"I'm not like most adults," Yoshiko said in her edgiest Yohane voice. Then: "Anyways, today's not the best day to do it. My ma – my mother's coming into town for graduation. Knowing her, she'd just drop by in the middle of it." She looked down at herself and said, "I should shower. She wouldn't wanna see me looking like this."

She got up and turned toward the door.

"Yoshiko…" Hanamaru's hand went out and caught the end of her shirt. Yoshiko turned back and Maru let go. "I'm… sorry about… you know…"

"It was nothing, really. You saying you weren't ready and all, that is, not the stuff before." Yoshiko sighed, placed her arms around her shoulders. Maru looked up at her. "Look, Zuramaru, you're worth more than you seem to know. A roll in the hay's a small thing compared to all the other stuff you're worth."

Hanamaru's eyes widened. Nobody had ever said anything like that to her before.

"It'll be worth the wait. I can already tell it'll be great. In the meantime I can think about how great it'll be."

"You think about that? About… us…"

Yoshiko flushed and looked away, her eyes only touching Maru's before skitting away. "I do. Of course I do. I'm your girlfriend and I'm sexual and I like you. Don't you think about that?"

Now it was Maru's turn to look away. She seemed to recall a night where she walked into Yoshiko's room, thinking of going down on her and pretending to be sick so she wouldn't notice her arousal. "I do."

"Yeah, see? That's how it is."

"Yoshiko."

"Hm?"

Hanamaru smiled up at her. "Has anyone ever told you you're a good kisser?"

Yoshiko looked surprised, then laughed. "Actually? No. Thanks, I guess."

She kissed her one last time with a hammy _mmmmmmmmMM!_ , then trounced off to the shower.

* * *

Around noon Naoko's car swung into the parking lot. Yoshiko was ready. She and Hanamaru spent the morning fighting over the bathroom, both of them eager to look their best for their families, both of them telling each other they looked fine. At some point in life worrying over what girls thought of you and saying, "You're my mom, you're supposed to think I'm cute" switched places.

"You come give your mom a hug!"

Yoshiko squawked as her spine was nearly bisected.

"Congratulations, graduate." Naoko fished through her purse and presented Yoshiko with an envelope. "Here, some cash to help you with your post-grad life. Oh, Yoshiko, I'm so proud of you."

"Thanks, Ma." Yoshiko accepted the envelope, bowing thanks to her mother.

"It feels like just yesterday I was taking you home from the hospital –" Naoko frowned as she looked around her daughter's vacant apartment. "Christ, if I knew you lived like _this_ I'd have gotten you some furniture as a gift. Who're you shacking up with, a monk?"

 _No, just his daughter._ "We're moving soon, so we donated some of our things." Yoshiko saw Hanamaru lurking in the hallway and gestured toward her. "You remember Zuramaru?"

Naoko's smile returned. "I sure do." Her boisterous cheer was halted long enough for her to say, "You shouldn't call her that, Yoshiko. It's rude. How would you like it if someone made fun of your accent?"

"It's okay, really," said Hanamaru. "It's been awhile, Tsushima-san. Have you been well?"

"About as well as I can be with a kid who never visits or calls." Naoko had bowed back, and now she was fixing Yoshiko with a hard gaze she couldn't help but flinch under.

"Oh, Yoshiko," Maru said. "Your _ma?_ You'd really ignore your _ma?_ "

Yoshiko glared as her girlfriend giggled behind her mom's back.

"What about you? Still writing your stories?"

"Oh, yes."

"That's good. You're very talented." Naoko shrugged. "I'm just an ordinary mother, so I really admire people with talent."

Yoshiko thought her mom was hardly ordinary.

Hanamaru tapped her wristwatch. "I have to be at the train station to pick up my parents. They've never been outside Numazu, so I don't want them getting lost or overwhelmed."

"You tell them I said hi."

Maru left, and the two of them looked back at each other.

"So," said Yoshiko, "interested in seeing Homotown Avenue?"

* * *

"Homotown Avenue" was a term the straights used to refer to Heiwa Avenue, along with "Fag Drag" and other rude names. Those two terms had been taken back by the queer community at Meisei in opposition, reclaimed, thrown back at the majority to let them know this street belonged to the minority and they had no intention of ever letting it go. It encompassed a good part of Yoshiko's college life, from The Second Cup to the Tachibana Bar to the club she DJ'd at, and while showing her enthused mother around she wondered how on earth Ruby, Dia, and You could just leave and give this place up.

"You sure like it here, don't you?" Naoko said, looking around at the same sex couples passing around them like a stream past rocks.

Yoshiko smiled. "Yeah, I love it."

"Well, that's alright, huh? You should've had a place like this when you were younger. Maybe you'd have been as happy then as you are now. And it even encompasses your hobby, see?" Naoko pointed towards a man dragging in a dark angel-themed costume.

"Ma!"

Naoko shrugged.

"I don't even do that anymore."

"Sure, dear. Stop calling me 'ma,' you sound like a sheep. Anyway, which restaurant has the best food?"

"That'd be The Second Cup," Yoshiko said, guiding her mom in its direction. "They have the best lemon bars I've ever had."

"Oh, Yoshiko, I hope you're eating more than just lemon bars there."

"I'm not," she said in a very serious voice, looking her mom in the eye. "It's all I ever eat. Lemon bars, lemon bars, lemon bars. I'm on an all-lemon bar diet."

"Li'l wiseass." Naoko twisted her ear.

They went inside and got a booth. While Naoko marveled at the retro feel of the place (even though she had been born a decade after its establishment) Yoshiko noticed they were the only family here. You's waitress confirmed this, giving Yoshiko and her mom the only "congrats, grad" she would that week.

"Sad, isn't it," said Naoko, spreading her napkin across her lap, "that so many parents are too narrow-minded to celebrate their kid's graduation at their favorite restaurant."

"Including Zuramaru's." Yoshiko leaned in and said quietly, "Chances are you'll see her parents over the next few days. Don't say anything to them about… you know. They don't know yet."

"Of course they do. They're her parents."

"Well, if they do they don't wanna, which is why we're not gonna drag poor Zuramaru outta the closet, 'kay?"

Naoko was a good mother, Yoshiko thought, and she was grateful that she had accepted her and continued to love her after she came out. But sometimes, oh sometimes she was just another clueless breeder.

"She shouldn't have to hide in the closet. She's such a good girl."

"She is, isn't she?" said Yoshiko. "She's good and she's my… friend and I love her. Which is why I let coming out be her decision. If she's out to her parents they just might drag her back to Numazu and never let her out of the temple except maybe for a round of shock therapy or something."

Yoshiko looked down, wondering if she had gone too far with the mention of shock therapy. Her grandfather had undergone thirty-seven rounds of it and by the time he was done his brain was so fried he could hardly remember his daughters.

Too far or not, it did the trick. Naoko said, "Fine. I won't say anything."

"Very good." Yoshiko pulled a menu toward herself and pretended to study it; by now she had the entire selection memorized. In truth she was thinking about Hanamaru, wondering if she was okay, if her parents were being nice to her. She must have weighed herself a hundred times that morning, as if she could magically drop twenty pounds like that. She had always been so hard on herself, especially about her appearance, and Yoshiko wondered how much her parents contributed to that. Parents were always doing shit like that on TV, always getting their little digs in about their daughter's weight, and it always seemed funny on TV, but in real life…

 _I don't know what she did to me._ Maru, talking about Izumi-senpai, her face bewildered and hurt. The remarks men threw at her. The baggy clothes she wore so no one could see just how fat she was. The looks waiters gave her when she ordered anything that wasn't a salad. The way she crossed her legs and arms so she could look smaller. The crying. No, it wasn't funny at all in real life.

 _I just want her to be happy and I dunno if I'm good enough to make that happen._ Yoshiko put the menu down and scrubbed a hand over her face. She seemed happy enough this morning while they were necking, until she wasn't. She'd been happy before with Yoshiko, until she wasn't. Weren't they in love? Wasn't that supposed to make everything better? It seemed that way on TV. _Maybe you just watch too much TV._

"…ko."

Her mother had been talking to her. Oops.

"Sorry. What were you saying?"

"Are you ready to order?"

"Oh. Yeah, sure."

Naoko observed her daughter's distant behavior, grinned, and asked, "Is it a girl?"

Yoshiko started. "N-No."

"Bullshit. I know when you're lying."

Yoshiko sighed. "Fine. I'm seeing someone, but for her sake I'm keeping it on the down-low."

Her mother was delighted. "Oh, Yoshiko, that's wonderful! Now hopefully you'll get laid so you won't be so uptight."

"Ma!"

"See? Just like that. Honestly, Yoshiko, twenty-two and still too embarrassed to talk to your mom about sex?" Ignoring her daughter's flustered protests, Naoko asked, "So, what's she like? Is she cute? Is she hot?"

"Wh – h – yes, she's cute. God! Leave me alone!"

"Fine, fine, you can keep your secret girlfriend. Just let me meet her eventually. I have plenty of cute photos from when you were little to show her."

* * *

Across town in a different diner Hanamaru stewed in discomfort while her parents argued about her father's dead goldfish. Upon coming into the kitchen Kunikida Umenosuke had found the bowl on the windowsill empty and concluded that the fish had consciously thrown itself out the window.

"He had a suicide," he said in a bass voice that carried the hallmark accent of a Shizuoka native.

"Committed," her mother, Matsuri, corrected. "One _commits_ suicide. You don't have the suicide, the suicide has you."

"Okay, but why would he do that? He was such a nice fish. Why would he want to end his life?"

"You actually wonder why, Zuranosuke? Have you _seen_ the shithole we live in? Even your own kid wanted out." Matsuri looked toward her daughter for backup, and Hanamaru took to studying the woodwork of the table.

"He had the suicide and I'm sad sometimes."

"What Mom means, Daddy," said Hanamaru, "is that fish aren't that complex. They have little brains and can't think that deeply. It was a misunderstanding." She patted the hair on his knuckles, but her words and actions seemed to do little to lift his spirits.

"You are done with this 'university'?" he asked.

"Yep," Maru said, smiling. "I graduate tomorrow."

"You'll come back to our temple?"

"Sorry, Daddy, I've decided to stay here a little while longer." She saw Matsuri nod approvingly.

Umenosuke took her hand and turned it upward, frowning at her smooth uncalloused palms. "You haven't been working hard enough. You expect to make a living with hands like these?" His hands by contrast were rough, hardened from work maintaining his family's temple, a job he now carried without her help.

He shook his head. "You haven't been working and you've gotten heavy so you can't find a husband to make money for you."

"Oh, Zuranosuke, give her a break. She went out and got herself an education. That's worth a lot more than your ugly hands."

"You think men want education? You look at her and tell me that's what men want."

People at nearby tables were looking their way and laughing. Hanamaru swallowed back tears and tried to think of something that would take her away from this situation. She tried telling herself that it didn't make a yen's worth of difference if men wanted her or not. It did, however, needle her that her dad thought not. He was her father and she had loved him as a man's daughter should, so wasn't it fair for her to expect the same in return?

Her hip pocket vibrated and she pulled out her phone. Yoshiko had sent a photo of herself at the store. Behind her, her mother stood frowning at the produce section. _shopping_ , the attached message said. _what do u want for dinner?_

 _Anything's fine!_ Maru replied. She paused, added a heart symbol, paused again, then added about ten more. Yoshiko's message had improved her mood considerably and she longed to convey this through the power of emojis.

She looked up to see her father glaring at the alien device in her hands. Her mother, meanwhile, was smiling.

"Aren't we popular," she said. "See, Zuranosuke, men _do_ want her."

Hanamaru pocketed her phone, shaking her head, lips working soundlessly. "It's not l-like that," she finally said, but Matsuri wasn't having any of it.

"Thank God. Really, Hanamaru. Twenty-two whole years and you've finally found someone. I worry about you being on your own. You should have someone to love you and take care of you."

Hanamaru wondered if that sentiment would carry if she knew that someone was not a man.

"… I can take care of myself, Mom."

"Oh, I know, dear. You've always been such a domestic homebody. Don't listen to your stupid father, you'll make your guy very happy when you get married."

Maru laughed, and her laughter had a jagged edge that made it sound like a cry for help. Her mother didn't know she wasn't straight and she didn't know she had zero aptitude for home skills, none. Yoshiko cooked, and while her room had been neat and organized, Hanamaru's was a hot mess, everything she owned thrown in scattered piles. It had been that way at home, too. Hadn't Matsuri noticed? Or was that not the sort of thing she could use against the husband she seemed to no longer love?

Hanamaru was mad, knew she was mad, hated herself for it. She wondered how on earth Yoshiko could like a girl who felt such brutish, ungrateful emotions for her own family.

As they left the restaurant Matsuri pulled her daughter close and whispered, "You marry him, Hanamaru. You marry him and get far away from that shithole temple, live a better life than I did. Marry him."

* * *

i wanted to make the graduation arc one big chapter. as it is i'm splitting it into two to save myself a little work. these two have interesting families, huh? for maru's i sorta based them (particularly her dad) off my weird religious conservative european relatives. yoshiko's mom is kind of a take on debbie nevatny from queer as folk.

see you next chapter! leave a review if you liked this one!


	8. Chapter 8

so hey turns out zuramaru's mom made an appearance in the anime, briefly in the final episode, and she doesn't look a bit like the shit-talking sarcastic old lady i imagined her to be. whoops. something i'm both hoping for and dreading is maru and/or yoshiko get their own episode in season 2. i'd love an episode about them, but i'd be nervous to see if the image of their families i built up got torn down.

* * *

 **OF DARKNESS AND LIGHT**

 **Chapter Eight**

Yoshiko had met her girlfriend's mother before but never her father. All she knew about him was that he was bald and strict. And tall, she supposed, thinking back to all those times in high school when Hanamaru would say, "I'm short now, but I'm still growing! My dad's tall and my mom tells me I'm just like him all the time!"

Nonetheless she was shocked by the long, tall man who ducked under their doorframe. _He must be over six feet tall!_ Maru's ma, by comparison, was barely five. Yoshiko wondered how bad he put out his back each time he bent to kiss her.

"Zuranosuke, stop playing with her goddamn doorbell! It's just like the one we have at home, only not broken!"

 _Not bad at all, considering they probably never kiss._

"It's fancy," he said. "I've never heard a doorbell like it." He turned to his wife. "Could it be we're in the future?"

"If we were we'd be dead, God willing. Now come on, enough."

Yoshiko looked from Matsuri trying vainly to drag Umenosuke away from the open door to her own mother. The two of them seemed to be caught in the middle of a fight and someone had to stop it.

"It is a very nice doorbell," Naoko supplied. "I also live in an apartment, and the doorbell there isn't nearly as, uh, melodic as this one."

That worked well enough. Umenosuke finally detached himself from the door. Matsuri regarded Naoko with a raised eyebrow.

"Tsushima-san. It's been awhile."

"It has. How've you been?"

"Good enough. I remember meeting you outside the preschool to pick our kids up." Matsuri was smiling now. "You were always such a character."

"Oh, I'm no one special…" Naoko giggled and squirmed while her daughter wondered if modesty was due for something that didn't sound too much like a compliment.

"Ume, you remember Maru's little friend?"

"Tsushima…" He looked down at her and she flinched. He was squinting, his heavy eyebrows drawn down. "…Moshiko?"

Behind him Hanamaru snorted laughter into her hand.

Yoshiko's eye twitched. _What am I, a cell phone mascot?_ "Actually, it's Yoshiko."

"Mm-hmm." He nodded, smiling. "Hanamaru talked about you a lot. I remember you well."

 _Except for my name._

"You got big," Matsuri said, looking up at her. "And not the same way Maru did."

Yoshiko glared and opened her mouth, then shut it when she saw Hanamaru shaking her head with her forearms crossed in a strong no. Still, she frowned down at this plump old woman, thinking, _You're hardly one to talk._

Maru spoke up. "Well, it's hard to… stay thin when you live with such a good cook. Yoshiko-chan will show you tonight with dinner, won't you?"

 _Chan._ The closet forced them back to honorifics. Trying a smile, she said, "You bet. I'll make you some nikujaga that will make you weep."

* * *

The only furniture the two girls had in their apartment at the moment were their beds and the table. Hanamaru entertained their guests at the latter while Yoshiko worked on dinner.

"Moshimoshi," Maru teased as she brought their now empty cups to the sink.

"Listen," Yoshiko said, "there's no reason I should have to bear the brunt of your dad's stupidity."

"Yoshiyoshi?" Maru tried, stroking the top of her head.

"That's no better!" Yoshiko turned the spray nozzle on her until she jumped away, laughing.

Shortly after dinner was served. As Yoshiko piled the meat and potatoes on everyone's plates she said, "This is my special nikujaga recipe, _mikujagaa_ , guaranteed to give you plenty of satisfaction."

Naoko laughed. She was the only one who did.

Umenosuke smiled and raised his glass of ginger ale. "Thank you, Roshiko-chan."

"It's Yoshiko."

Maru's father then proceeded to give the most epic version of "itadakimasu" Yoshiko had ever heard. Delivered in both Japanese and Sanskrit, it involved tears and excessive hand-wringing and came off less like a prayer and more like a spell.

"Enough with the chanting," said Matsuri. "You're scaring them."

"The power of God is a mighty one that has rightfully earned fear," said Umenosuke. "Yet that does not deter me from my faith. That is what makes me strong."

"It makes you _something_ , that's for sure…"

"Yoshiko-chan sometimes talks like that," Hanamaru said, patting her father's arm.

Ume regarded her with new interest. "You also put your faith in the power of God?"

Yoshiko gave Maru a withering look. _Why did you have to go and bring that up?_ the look said. Maru's smile shrank and she looked down.

"That she did," Naoko said, laying her hands on her daughter's shoulders. "Li'l Yoshiko thought herself an angel in God's service."

"Angel?" Umenosuke looked at the two of them as if he had never heard of such a thing. Shaking his head, he stood. Looking up at such a great man, Yoshiko was reminded of the lead character of some manga. He was huge, gargantuan, and regarded by others as an ogre. But this character only looked scary. When he spoke all fear you had of him vanished. When Hanamaru's father spoke your fear multiplied.

"To die is to become one with God. The trees, the wind, they are in God's service. You are not. Not even I…" He paused, face twitching. He then opened the fridge, rooted around, then took to the bathroom with a bottle of soy sauce. He emerged a few minutes later with fresh tear tracks on his cheeks and soy sauce running down his pate.

* * *

After dinner both families retired to their hotels. Hanamaru returned home after seeing her parents to their inn to find Yoshiko laying on her back on the floor. One would think she was sleeping, but Maru was her girlfriend and knew from the lack of snoring that she was wide awake.

"What a day," she said, eyes still closed.

"Yeah." Maru joined her in laying down on the floor. We became a couple in this room, she realized, and pretty soon it's going to belong to someone else. She got a lump in her throat and took a deep breath. She also took Yoshiko's hand.

"So, um…" Yoshiko's eyes opened and she itched an eyebrow with her free hand. "I'm sorry I call you Zuramaru."

Maru blinked. "Huh?"

"And I'm sorry for the times I've made fun of you for being, y'know, old-fashioned."

"Yoshiko, I don't care about that. It's like I said to your mom. I'm fine with it."

Yoshiko looked at her sadly. "Really?"

"Yeah, really. What's this about?"

She looked back up at the ceiling. At length she said, "Your parents don't get along, do they?"

Hanamaru stared at her, wondering what that had to do with anything. Then she likewise turned her gaze to the ceiling. It was cracked. She thought of her mom urging her dad to call a carpenter about the cracks at home and how he tried to fix them himself. He had loved her as best he could, but his affection like his cooking was devoid of anything one might call "normal."

"I guess not," she said.

"You don't think they'll get a divorce?"

"Them? No." Hanamaru shook her head. She was smiling a little, as if Yoshiko had asked, "You don't think they'll grow wings and fly?" "If you thought I'm old-fashioned, they're so much so that they'd never break up a marriage. And, for as much as they fight, they don't hate each other."

Yoshiko said carefully, "I wouldn't want us to fight like they do when we're old."

"Is _that_ what you're worried about? Oh, Yoshiko." From the corner of her eye she saw Hanamaru's body shake with laughter. She looked at her, indignant.

"Yes, that was what I was worried about. I lo…" She swallowed, cleared her throat. "I like you a lot and care about you and want you around for a long time. I don't want us to not get along like your parents do."

It came out all in a rush, all in one breath, but Yoshiko's face wasn't red just from lack of air.

Hanamaru looked at her, eyes swimming in the wan light thrown from the kitchen. Her heart was full of so many good things her girlfriend had said to her – and all in one day – that she didn't know if it could take any more. But the one word she latched on wasn't one that went said but almost. Had it been "love"? Maru couldn't be sure, still couldn't believe she could be loved, but what other feeling was it when you when you cared about someone and wanted them around for a long time?

Maru scooted closer so she could kiss Yoshiko. Her kisses were gentle, tender. "You're good, really good," she whispered between kisses. You're a good girlfriend and a good person. You really live up to your name." She grinned and turned her eyes upward. "What was it again…? Moshiko?"

Yoshiko scowled and Hanamaru laughed.

"I swear, he's doing that on purpose. He knows my name. He just pretends not to to insidiously tell me he hates me."

"Yoshiko, my dad's not smart enough to be insidious. According to my mom, it took him three years to remember my birthday."

"Jesus. There are dogs who have it better than that."

"I like your mom. I mean, I've met her before, but I still like her. She's fun."

Yoshiko shrugged. "Yeah, well, I guess 'fun' and 'weird' are two sides of one coin."

"My daddy contradicts that."

"Your 'daddy'?" Now Yoshiko was laughing. "After all the grief you gave me over calling my mother 'ma.' All this time I've been dating a daddy's girl. My God."

Maru snorted and looked away. "Anyway he keeps bugging me about finding a husband. _Find_ , as if men are exotic mushrooms and it takes a trained eye to spot one. And my mom thinks I have a boyfriend."

"Oh-oh, that means she'll want to meet 'him.'" Yoshiko put two fingers over her eye and asked, "Do you think I'd be very convincing in drag?"

They laughed and talked a bit longer before calling it an early night. It had been a big day and the next few days were to be even bigger.

* * *

Due to its huge student body Meisei staggered its graduation ceremonies over the course of a week. Certain departments shared a day. Lit and journalism were two such departments, meaning Hanamaru and Ruby would share the stage down at Sakurai Hall.

It also meant the little apartment was crammed with three families. To make matters worse Mrs. Kurosawa was on a quest for documentation, and she was relentless in it. While Maru and Ruby changed in a bedroom Yoshiko and Dia were posed in every single variation of a group shot imaginable.

"Let's see if we can squeeze Maru-chan's father into the corner there, and you, dear," she instructed her husband, "can you go in front of him and put an arm around Dia? Yes, like that. That's good, that's nice."

"Why is your mother like this?" Yoshiko muttered to Dia around a smile that had been held for so long it was almost an ictus of pain.

"Well," Dia said under her breath, "this sort of thing happens only once in a lifetime. Make the most of it."

"There's only so much you can make of this. And your mom already has five or so pics of us together. Does she need the extras for if we kill her without your dad in the shot so she has a suitable mugshot for the cops?"

"Yoshiko, come on."

"Come on, my ass. I'm serious, Dia, I'm this close to summoning Satan's minions to drag your mother past all seven circles of hell right to its fetid, steaming core."

Mr. Kurosawa was laughing throughout this whispered exchange; he was the only one in the shot with a real smile on his face. He knew his wife could be a tad overbearing, but in all honesty that was something he loved about her. What was more, a man like him needed her pushiness and he knew it. She had given him direction, a sense of purpose, helped him realize his dream of owning a business in Japan's fishing industry. He was a meek softboy who loved his daughters and was deeply afraid of Umenosuke.

"You," Ume said, pointing.

Mr. Kurosawa squeaked and shrank back.

"What do you do for a living?"

"D-Don't you remember? I'm in the fishing business."

"How do you not know who the Kurosawas are?" Naoko asked. "Christ, even I know."

"Ignore him, he's an idiot," Matsuri moaned, rubbing her head. "Say, do you kids have any booze?"

Umenosuke's large hand shot out and snatched Mr. Kurosawa's. Amid Mrs. Kurosawa's frantic protests he bent his head so his face was closer to the smaller man's hand. Turning it upward, he proceeded to perform his unique career palmistry.

"You're no fisherman," he said, disgusted. "Get out of my face, you lying rat."

Instead of explaining that his job was to send fishermen and -women out to wrangle fishes to sell to various stores and restaurants Mr. Kurosawa took to hiding behind his angry wife.

The door to Hanamaru's bedroom cracked open and Ruby poked her head out. The smell of hairspray wafted out and Yoshiko squinted.

No sooner was her youngest's face out the door than Mrs. Kurosawa regained her spirit and hoisted her camera back up. "Ah, Ruby, can you and Maru-chan come out here? I want to get a shot of you with your sister and Yoshiko-chan."

"Sorry, Mom, in a sec. We're not ready yet." Ruby turned her head toward Dia, earrings dangling. "Sis, could you and Yoshiko come in for a minute? We need some help."

Umenosuke said, "She doesn't need _that_ many people to help zip her up, does she?"

Yoshiko threw him the sourest glare she could before following Dia into Hanamaru's bedroom.

In truth Maru was zipped up and ready to go, Ruby was telling them, but Yoshiko didn't hear her. She felt as if she had never been rendered so helpless by just looking at another person.

She knew Hanamaru would dress nicely for graduation. She had even seen the dress she had picked out for it. But she didn't know she could look so good in it. It was a strapless white thing that hugged her chest with ruffles and fell off below it in pearly seamless waves. Her hair had been pulled up in a bun in the back and curled into ringlets in the front.

Ruby patted Yoshiko's back. "Doesn't she look stunning?"

"I am stunned," Yoshiko said at last. Her legs felt rubbery. She took a step. Another. "You look perfect," she told Hanamaru.

"Really?"

"Yeah." She reached out and touched her shoulder gently. Below it her Dean's List poppy flower was pinned to her dress.

 _It's kind of like that day at the library. You wanted to touch her back then, too. Now you can._ Smiling, she brought her hand up to her cheek. Hanamaru's skin was warm and soft. Maru tilted her head so her cheek rested more firmly in her girlfriend's hand and smiled back up at her. Yoshiko had always loved her face. _I want to kiss it_ , the younger part of her that lingered in the library said, and she responded, _You can._ And she did.

After the fifth kiss it looked like things were heating up and Dia snapped, "This is getting inappropriate! Don't look, Ruby."

"It's nothing I've never done myself, sis. Can you let go of me? You're messing up my hair."

Yoshiko and Hanamaru pulled away, giggling.

Dia looked away, ears red. "You can wait until after graduation for… that. Now come on. You and Ruby have to be down at Sakurai Hall in an hour."

"But not before your mom takes a billion more photos," Yoshiko said, sighing as she took Maru's arm and guided her toward the door.

And so graduation passed, marking the end of another one of life's cycles and ushering in a sweet new beginning. As a child she had been taught that life was cyclical, and that new beginnings were the just reward for enduring the hardships that came with each cycle. Although, Yoshiko thought in Sakurai Hall, glancing at the big bald man who frowned at the interpreter for the deaf on stage, this beginning might prove to be not so sweet.

* * *

 **a/n:** yay the graduation arc is finally over. now i can get to writing the stuff i had planned when i started this baby. yoshiko and maru's progressing relationship, riko's career, the kurosawas' careers and love lifes, you's career and history with chika and riko. i hope you'll stick around for it.


	9. Chapter 9

tw: some suicide mention in the beginning.

* * *

 **OF DARKNESS AND LIGHT**

 **Chapter Nine**

The "dyke merger," as Mari so eloquently dubbed the moving in of Yoshiko and Hanamaru, had been a hot topic among the four parties included. Vermin-ridden the Paw Pad may have been, but it did have a nice porch. "We can build a bonfire over the summer and toast marshmallows, won't that be fun!" said Chika at the Tachibana Bar. She seemed to think of this move as madcap and adventurous, but ultimately it was her girlfriend who poked the hole in her hype souffle.

"That's a lot of girls to one bathroom," said Riko. "I feel sorry for the last one to get a shower."

The other three fell silent and looked at each other accusingly, trying to sniff out the hot water hog.

"That will be Yoshiko," said Hanamaru. "I don't know why but she feels the need to take scalding hot power-hour showers. I'm surprised she isn't a burn victim yet."

"When you've felt the blackest flames of hell, hot water is but a tickling sensation to your fel skin."

"That so?" said Riko. "Then you should be fine with lukewarm water after the three of us are done."

Yoshiko whined and put her head down in defeat.

"Now, now," said Chika. "Sometimes me and Riko shower together, so you'll have hotter water some days."

"Not as hot as yours." Yoshiko looked at the two of them in amazement. "You shower together?"

"To save water," Riko said hurriedly, cheeks pink.

"Think we should try that?" Yoshiko asked Hanamaru, laying a hand upon hers.

Maru swallowed a gulp of her tequila sunset. "Mm, I don't have the tolerance for boiling hot water that you do." The booze slurred her words, turning her zuras into juras. It also pushed her to lean in and murmur, "But I'd be happy to be the tickling sensation on your fel skin."

Yoshiko looked at her and Maru giggled at the expression on her face. _She is so drunk._ Yoshiko let her lean on her and whisper whatever sexual nonsense she wanted (and her inebriation did make it sound like nonsense, Zuramaru could have been proposing sex on Mars for all she knew). It was quite fetching, but she was just sober enough to know better than to be fetched. Still: _I'd be happy to be the tickling sensation on your fel skin._ Yoshiko shivered with delight. _Thank you, Zuramaru, for giving me jill off material good enough to last months._

It was nearly 3 AM when the four of them staggered on back to the Paw Pad. Yoshiko asked in a voice that was overloud with drunkenness, "Where's You? Did she take off already?"

Chika laughed. "No. She was s'posed to leave tomorrow." She hiccuped. "Later today, sorry. Don't see why… she wouldn't wanna spend one last night with us, though."

"She hasn't seemed happy in the last year," Riko said, then shook her head. "She hasn't seemed happy in the last few years. I worry about that girl."

By the time they got back to the complex, a rickety old wooden thing, Yoshiko was low-key worried that You had maybe gone and done something drastic, but part of her knew better. _Come on, this is You. Like she'd really… off herself or something. Don't be such an asshole._

But, when the four of them burst into the apartment they found it empty with a post-it on the kitchen table.

" _I had to leave earlier than planned_ ," Chika read. " _Sorry I couldn't stay to welcome Hanamaru and Yoshiko. I'll call this weekend. All my best, You._ "

They looked around at each other.

"You doesn't sign things off with 'all my best,'" Riko said slowly.

"Right?" said Hanamaru. "She usually goes 'yousoro!' Like that."

"I'm gonna go find her," Chika declared. "Things can't end with a post-it. Not after all we've been through."

She started toward the door in heavy, lumbering steps and stopped when Riko's hand fell on her shoulder.

"You can't go out like that alone in the middle of the night."

"Then come with me!"

"Chika, it's late. All we're going to find at this hour is gas and cigarettes. We'll call her tomorrow." Riko smiled. "Or later today."

Chika sighed and gave in, let her girlfriend guide her off to their bedroom. Before she turned in Riko regarded her new room mates who had watched all of this with bemused and concerned faces.

"Sorry for all that," she said, bowing. "Chika and You have always been close, and they have some history, so…"

"Hey, it's fine," Yoshiko said. "If it weren't 3 AM I'd be down for a search party myself."

Riko smiled. "She's probably at home, like she said. We'll call her later on and see how she's doing. So don't worry." She laid each hand on their shoulders.

"So senpai-like!" Maru squeed drunkenly.

"Yeah," said Yoshiko. "You'd almost forget she's Bermuda Gay."

The hand on her shoulder tightened until she cried out.

"Now then," said Riko, "want to see your new room?"

From somewhere in the apartment came the snap of a trap and a mouse squeaking its last.

* * *

Around noon Yoshiko woke up with the worst headache of her life, a burning sensation in her lower tummy that forewarned diarrhea, and Maru butted up against her. She could feel her blood trying to move through her veins and it _hurt._

The two of them eventually slumped out into the hallway. Yoshiko didn't dare kiss Hanamaru good morning; her mouth tasted like a raccoon took a dump in it and she had left the turd to ferment for a month. She had never had a worse hangover.

"Good afternoon," Riko said brightly. She was seated at the kitchen table finishing off her lunch.

"Water," Yoshiko croaked. "Please."

They both sat at the table. Riko brought her plate to the sink. She started running water and they flinched at the sound.

"My hair hurts," Yoshiko said.

"It'd probably help if you didn't tie it up while hungover," said Riko. She pinched Yoshiko's hairtie between her thumb and forefinger and gently pulled it free. Her bun slowly uncoiled like a dead snake and lay in blue locks against her shoulder.

Yoshiko hummed. "That is actually a lot better."

Hanamaru watched this with a frown. Reaching over, she gathered up her girlfriend's hair and placed it over one shoulder. "This should help it not catch on the back of the chair."

 _Why would it do that?_ Yoshiko wondered. She was in too much pain to really care. She smiled at Maru and said, "That feels good, too. Thanks, babe."

Satisfied, Hanamaru nodded, then looked at Riko, who took a step back before retreating to her room.

* * *

Yoshiko later ran to the bathroom to surrender the pureed contents of her colon. While struggling to not faint she noticed she had a guest. Said guest was unlucky enough to skitter over a trap. _Suh-NAP!_

"You killed me," the mouse said, pointing its crumpled paw at her. "Here I had so much to live for, an entire life ahead of me, but now it's over, just like that." It wheezed rhythmically before closing its eyes and dying.

* * *

Their hangovers forced Yoshiko and Hanamaru to call it a night around 8 PM. They both wanted to sleep until they stopped feeling like garbage. Yoshiko was willing to lapse into a coma if such a long period of unconsciousness was required to get all the yuckiness out of her system.

That said, she was far from happy to be woken up at midnight by the squeak of springs coming from the bedroom next door.

 _Come on, really?_ she thought, and Riko's muffled moan seemed to say, _Yes, really._

"Maru," she whispered, then cleared her throat. "Zuramaru," she said, louder, shaking her awake.

Hanamaru raised her head off the pillow without opening her eyes. She pulled out an earplug. Turning her head toward the wall between them and the passionate lovers next door, she asked, "Why are they jumping on the bed at this hour?"

 _Oh, Zuramaru._ "They're not jumping on the bed. They're fucking on the bed."

Another moan seeped through the wall and Maru's eyes snapped open. Her face went pink. " _Oh._ "

"Oh, indeed."

"Kind of bold of them, don't you think? So soon after we moved in?"

"Well, it is their place. And You did say before that they were loud." As if to accentuate this, the creaking of springs quickened to a frantic pace and Riko cried out one last time, her voice tinged with desperation. "…And sounds like they decided to take her advice and fuck each other stupid."

Hanamaru rubbed a hand over her mouth. There was something weird (too weird, she thought) about hearing your friends having sex. She had never heard Riko moan like that. _Yoshiko has_ , she realized, looking at her, _and Riko's heard her moan, too._

"Was Riko that loud when you slept with her?" she asked.

Yoshiko tried to remember. Had she been? She hadn't thought about that in a while. "I think it was safe to say that between the two of us I was much louder." She laughed. "Can I borrow some earplugs? I don't need to hear Bermuda Gay's latest piece, 'Testaments to Chika's Sexual Prowess in F-major.'"

"Sure," Maru said flatly. She handed some over, then went back to sleep, her back turned on Yoshiko.

* * *

The Paw Pad had no air conditioning, and even in April Yoshiko was already feeling the heat. She decided to beat it by going someplace cooler, and that was how she ran into her ex at a cafe.

"Tsushima-chan?"

She turned and saw her, the third baseman, a girl with small eyes and hair done up in short low pigtails.

"Kuramochi-senpai! Holy cow!"

"Ain't it jes' a small world? How ya been?"

"I've been good. And you?"

Kuramochi tilted her head and giggled. "I'm in love."

"Aw, no way!" Yoshiko got her drink and the two of them stepped away from the counter. Never before in her life could she recall forcing so much enthusiasm. "Who's the lucky girl?"

Kuramochi, under normal circumstances, might have made a cynical remark like, "Tsushima-chan, let's be real an' not pretend like you'd regard a girl I'm datin' as lucky." But she was head over heels and eager to talk about her new girl. "Oh, she's jes' a real sweetheart. Very attentive. Takes very good care o' me. I almost thinks I don't deserve her."

"Wow," said Yoshiko, genuinely impressed. "You must like her a lot."

"Like her? I love her. We're meetin' up here for coffee. Stick aroun' an' ya might get t' meet 'er." Then: "What about you, Tsushima-chan? You heatin' up anyone's sheets with yer hellfire?"

"As only a fallen angel should," Yohane husked. Then: "Yeah, I'm seeing someone. She's –"

"Ah, there she is!" Kuramochi opened the door and stepped out, waving her hand downward in a beckoning gesture. "Sacchan, over here!" She returned with a skinny girl with short black hair. "Sacchan, this here's Tsushima Yoshiko, my ex. Tsushima-chan, this is my girlfriend, Izumi Satoko."

"Ah, nice to – _IZUMI SATOKO?!_ " Yoshiko's drink, halfway gone, was crushed by her squeezing hand. Iced tea ran over it in rills.

Kuramochi looked back and forth between the two of them. "You two know each other?"

"No," said Izumi.

Yoshiko stared, eyes wide, mouth flapping like a fish's. "No," she finally managed. "I must have Izumi-san confused with someone else. Sorry."

"Anyway, you were tellin' me about your girlfriend?"

Yoshiko tried to tear her gaze off Izumi. She was pretty, had a nice voice, not a bad body either. Hanamaru had had her first kiss with this girl. _Zuramaru did good – no, she did_ not _do good_ , she thought, remembering how Izumi had treated her.

"You don't know her."

"Oh, come on, I know everyone," said Kuramochi. "What's her major?"

"Literature."

"Oh, Lord, there is a metric fuckton of queer ladies in that department. Uhh, Nakajo Mizuki?"

"Nope."

"Akamatsu Kyouko?"

"Wrong again."

"Rrgh, this'd be so much easier if ya'd jes' tell me who she is."

Izumi took her hand. "C'mon, Waka-chan, let's get some coffee and a few muffins."

 _Has Kuramochi gained weight?_ Yoshiko couldn't be sure, but now after finding out who she was in love with she kind of wanted to be. Kuramochi had always been kind of a heavy girl. And after not seeing her for a while Yoshiko couldn't ascertain whether or not she had gotten heavier. She felt like a jerk, standing here weighing her ex with her eyes. _And it's all because of her. Izumi Satoko, the girl who hurt my girlfriend._

"Well, it was nice seein' ya again, Tsushima-chan."

"You too, Kuramochi-senpai. Take care."

"Nice meeting you," Izumi said.

As they turned to go Yoshiko stuck her foot out. Izumi's caught on it, and it was only by the swift reflexes of Kuramochi that she didn't fall gracelessly like a fool. Nonetheless, she did look funny, and Yoshiko tripped her a second time. Izumi glared at her and Yoshiko stared back with wide, sweet eyes, the very picture of innocence.

* * *

Yoshiko came home to find Riko standing outside the kitchen with a shoe in her hand. She was as tight as a spring, ready to pounce at a moment's notice.

Yoshiko's entering broke her concentration and she jumped. She looked back toward the kitchen. Her eyes widened and, shuddering, she took several steps back.

"Sup, Riko. What's going on?" Yoshiko walked over to her and looked in the kitchen. She grinned. "Aw, looks like you made a new friend."

Riko's "friend" was flying across the far kitchen wall at the speed of light, its eight legs a blur that seemed somehow crystal clear in the redhead's vision.

"As if I'd be friends with _that!_ Thank God you're here, though." Riko thrust the shoe at Yoshiko. "You kill it. It's too fast for me."

"Kill it? Why? I think it's kinda sweet, aren't you, spider-chan?" she cooed at the arachnid, which had finally settled into the corner.

"I thought you hated spiders."

"Well, I don't like them on my bare chest," said Yoshiko, "but this one's just minding its own business."

"Yeah, right, minding its own business, you know, trespassing in my apartment and oppressing me for being gay."

"It's a spider, Riko. A spider can't trespass. Also, we need it to control the insect population."

"Humans do that, and without breaking into people's homes! Yocchan, just get rid of it! You don't have to kill it, just take it out of here! Please!"

"Fine." Yoshiko grabbed a card off the coffee table ("Sakurauchi Riko, freelance musician – piano, viola – contact at…") and a cup.

"That's my cup!" Riko protested. "I drink coffee from it! Pick a different one."

The cup said "Here Comes Treble." Yoshiko set it down and chose a clear glass.

Riko shook her head. "We've got a ton of glasses that look like that. How will I know which one once had a spider in it?"

"Do you want me to get rid of this thing or not?"

"I do. I do. I'm sorry." Riko nibbled the ends of her fingers, eyes fixed on the spider.

Yoshiko approached it as quietly as she could. It stood perfectly still. Taking care not to break the glass, she brought it down as fast as she could. The spider was faster. It took off, zooming along the other wall toward the living room.

Riko shrieked and threw her arms around Yoshiko, clutching her in a terrified deathgrip. "Oh my God, just kill it, please, it's just one spider, the world won't miss it, we've got ant eaters, they control the insect population without barging into innocent God-fearing citizens' homes, they're kinda cute, too…"

Amid her babbling Yoshiko whistled. "Fast little fucker, isn't he. But I think I can get him." She tried to move forward, but Riko's arms kept her locked in place. Looking over her shoulder at her in exasperation, she said, "I'd have a much easier time disposing of this thing if you'd let go."

"I'm not letting go until I know it's dead!"

Feeling like a panda with its young, Yoshiko dragged Riko around the living room in a hunt for the spider. So caught up was she in her race against the fastest arachnid she had ever seen she hardly noticed Hanamaru come through the door.

Maru cried out. She didn't mean to. But seeing Yoshiko with Riko's arms around her waist struck her hard in the chest, forcing the word "Hey…!" out of her in a breathless shout.

"Got him! Fuck yeah! Oh hey, Zuramaru. Wanna meet our new pet?"

"We're not keeping it, Yocchan! Now take it outside like you said you would!"

"Unhand her, please."

"Huh?" Riko blinked, looked at Hanamaru, then at Yoshiko, then at her arms locked around her. "Oh!" She flew back, hands up as if she were face-to-face with a gunman. "I'm sorry, Hanamaru. It's not how it looks. I'm really afraid of spiders and Yocchan wouldn't kill it. She really cares about life, your girlfriend does, and uh…"

"Spider?" Maru asked.

"Yeah," said Yoshiko, holding up the glass. "Our new pet, see?"

"Yocchan, we are _not_ keeping it."

Yoshiko pouted. "Fine."

Hanamaru ran a hand through her hair. Catching spiders. That was all it had been. So why couldn't she feel relieved?

Yoshiko leaned in and kissed her. "Wanna give a name to our spider before I let him back out in the wild?"

Hanamaru watched it scramble for its little life in the glass. "C-Cloud-chan?"

"Wow, creative. Let's go, Cloud-chan," Yoshiko sang as she stepped outside.

* * *

Friday night Chika and Riko went out for dinner and a movie. Yoshiko and Hanamaru had the place to themselves, and the blue-haired girl had hopes of them doing what they were too shy to do while the others were there. Only if bae was ready, of course.

Hanamaru seemed pretty far from not ready.

They had sat down to watch _Citizen Kane._ "You'll love it," people had told Maru. "One of the best movies ever made," they said. It was okay at best in some moments, and they got bored and started making out. Hanamaru let Yoshiko sit atop her lap and found herself fingering the back lip of her jeans, not quite sticking her hand down them.

 _She's big,_ Yoshiko thought. The sheer size of Maru's chest swelling with breath against hers aroused a baser curiosity in her and she dragged her fingers lightly against the curve of one breast until Hanamaru groaned softly against her neck.

"You are so hot," Yoshiko whispered.

"Hotter than Riko?"

"By a longshot." Yoshiko's hand halted and she pulled back. "You're not bothered that I slept with her, are you?"

Maru shook her head. "No. It was one time, and that was years ago." This was something she had tried to tell herself ever since that night they woke up to Chika and Riko shagging in the next room. Why _should_ such ancient history bother her? It didn't, she was sure of that. But, by golly, _something_ sure did.

Yoshiko leaned back in to kiss and Maru asked, "Who's better in bed?"

"Zuramaru, I have no way of knowing that. I've never been with you. You and Riko are completely different people. So even if I had it'd be like comparing apples and cantaloupes."

"Okay, so who's got the cantaloupes?"

Yoshiko grinned and looked down. "I think we both know the answer to that."

" _Ohh_ -kay." Hanamaru pulled her caressing hand off her breast and held it. "You said you made more noise than she did that time. Sounds to me like she was pretty good."

A slow sort of realization dawned on Yoshiko's face. "Kunikida Hanamaru, you…" Then she became Yohane and said, "In all my eons as a fallen angel never had I thought I would contract with such a green, possessive demon. This particular demon never struck me as the jealous type."

"I am _not_ jealous."

"Tsk tsk. Temper, temper." It struck her that in all her years knowing Hanamaru she had never seen her get angry. She wasn't even sure someone like her was capable of it. _Well, of course she must be. She is human._ Still, for _this_ to be the moment she'd decide to act on anger said something, and Yoshiko decided to stop clowning.

"Look, I'm sorry. The thing I said about me being louder was like an inside joke. It wasn't anything Riko did to me. What happened was, I was laying on my back with Riko on top of me. She bent down to kiss me…"

Hanamaru wasn't sure she wanted to hear this.

"…and a lock of her hair fell off her shoulder and hit my chest. I thought a spider had fallen on to me and screamed. I scared her so bad she fell out of bed and hit her head. That was why I was louder."

Yoshiko hoped she would laugh. She didn't. Taking a deep breath, she said, "I need to return those books about… um…" She squirmed out from underneath her confused girlfriend.

"It's Friday night. The library's –"

The door shut.

"…closed."

* * *

The April night was as chilly as inside the movie theater and Riko kept her hoodie on. She and Chika walked in the close-but-not-too-close fashion common among same sex couples who are not in mood for catching grief out in public.

Chika squinted. "Is that Hanamaru?"

Laughing with disbelief, Riko followed her gaze. Her laughter died fast. "Is is her… and she's _smoking!_ "

Hanamaru was standing outside a convenience store, a cigarette clutched awkwardly in her fingers like a blunt. Chika and Riko ran up to her.

"Since when do you smoke?" Riko asked.

"Where's Yoshiko?" Chika asked.

"Yeah, where is she? I'll bet she'd be hopping mad if she knew you were smoking."

"I'm sure she's just fine without me." Maru's voice had a rusty quality. She coughed. "As for this, I'm just feeling some stress lately, and I thought this would help. I hear it's also good for weight loss."

"Gimme that!" Chika snatched the cig and cried out when it burned her palm. It fell from her hand, and Riko stamped it dead in the concrete. "Why would Yoshiko be fine without you?"

"She's not," said Riko. "I know this for a fact."

"You know her pretty well, don't you?" Hanamaru said. She was smiling, but there was no happiness in it. "You're skinny, you're pretty, you're into comics. You're well-suited for her."

"So are you. You keep her in line better than I do. I'm not available anyway."

Chika looked back and forth between the two of them. "I feel like I'm missing something."

"Hanamaru's scared Yocchan will leave her for me."

"I'm not scared."

"Why would she do that?" Chika asked.

"Probably because I slept with her once."

"You had sex with Yoshiko?!"

"You didn't tell her?" Maru asked, aghast. She couldn't imagine keeping something like that from someone.

"I did," said Riko. "This one just has a way of forgetting things." She pushed at Chika's head affectionately with a finger. Chika giggled and poked her tongue out. Turning back to Hanamaru, Riko said, "Chika had sex with You once, you know."

Maru shook her head, eyes wide.

"Sort-of sex," said Chika. "I wouldn't call what we did 'sex.'"

Riko shrugged. "Po-tay-to, po-tah-to. Whatever they did, it had an effect on You. I was fairly certain she would ask Chika out, or vice versa. In fact I hoped they would, so I'd have a chance at not being gay, but that's a separate issue."

"Bermuda Gay," Maru murmured.

"Yep. But it wasn't Chika and You. It was Chika and me. And it made You jealous. She'd say otherwise, but she really was so incredibly jealous. Even so, we decided to live together. Chika decided, more like."

"It's always been us three!" said Chika. "And it still should be, even in this triangle situation."

"The Bermuda Triangle," said Riko, laughing. "I always did think You was better for you than me. She has an amazing body and she's more fun. I'm just a debby downer, ruining everyone's good time with my sorries. If she took you back I wouldn't blame you for going back."

Chika shook her head vigorously. "If she tried, I wouldn't. I'd only go back to you, Riko, because I love you."

"Care to repeat that?"

"I'd only go back to you 'cause I love you."

"One more time, for someone here who doesn't get it."

"I wouldn't go back to You because I love you!"

Riko smiled at Hanamaru. "See? It's the same with Yocchan. Even if I wanted to take her from you I don't think I could. That girl's as gone over you as any girl can be over another. She's yours."

"She loves you," Chika added. "I don't know if she's said it, but she does. It's all over her face and voice."

"I… love her." Hanamaru smiled, laughed, tucked a lock of hair behind her ear.

"Then tell her," said Riko.

Maru stared down at the sidewalk for a moment. Then she looked up with a determined expression. "You guys, I have somewhere to be." And she took off, dashing toward their apartment.

Chika shaded her eyes even though it was nighttime. "Ah, look at that sprint of youth."

"Even though she's four years too old for that and a painfully slow runner." Riko sighed and turned her eyes skyward. "Thank God. Between You and her, I was beginning to feel like the slutty girlfriend thief." She looked at Chika. "Have you heard from You, by the way?"

"I have. She says her father came home early this year, so she had to go help him. She says she hopes we'll visit this summer."

* * *

Maru's sprint of youth lasted a block and a half before, winded and nauseous, she placed her hands on her knees and bent low, wheezing. She could practically hear Yoshiko: _Making a run like that after smoking might not have been the smartest idea, Zuramaru._

 _I know, Yoshiko._ Then: _Oh, phooey. She is going to be steaming when she smells smoke on me._ Maru fished through her pockets, hoping she had perfume or mints. All she came up with was the pack of Marlboros. She stared at it. Her mother smoked sometimes. Umenosuke whittled her down, but when she had a Marlboro in her mouth and a glass of sake in her hand she was the very picture of serenity. Hanamaru had hoped for some of that serenity when she wandered, sick with jealousy, into that convenience store.

 _I don't need these_ , she thought, pitching the cigarettes. The feeling she got as they left her hand could only be described as "relief." _Mom needs those because Daddy can't bring her happiness. Yoshiko can and does._

And so she resumed walking home.

* * *

"Where the hell have you been? Do you have any idea how worried I was?"

No sooner was Hanamaru in the door than Yoshiko was upon her. It was all too easy to imagine her shouting these things in a bathrobe and fuzzy-wuzzy slippers.

"What're you smiling for? Can't you tell I'm pissed?"

"You worried about me. Oh, Yoshiko."

"Of course I worried! It doesn't take someone four hours to go to the library – which was closed, by the way. A girl, on her own at night. Jesus, do you know how scared I was?"

Hanamaru sighed, genuinely contrite. "I'm sorry."

"It's okay. I'm just glad you're safe." Yoshiko seemed to decompress. She took Maru's shoulder and pulled her into a hug. They stood like that in the living room, feeling each other's warmth, the swell and shrink of their breathing. Then Yoshiko stiffened, and Hanamaru knew what was coming. She buried her nose in her swearshirt and asked, "Have you been smoking?"

"Yeah. I had a weak moment and smoked a cigarette. It's never happening again."

"Good. The only cancer I need in my life is my sun sign. Just don't kiss me until you've taken off those clothes and brushed your teeth."

"No kissing's going to make this pretty tough." Maru pulled back and smiled up at her. "I love you, Yoshiko. I really do."

Yoshiko's eyes widened. She had felt it and suspected Maru also did. Still, to hear it so fast on the heels of worrying for her life took her aback a little. She felt raw with it, felt it running through her veins, and it felt _good._ She smiled back and said, "I love you, too, Hanamaru."

She leaned in to kiss her on the mouth, balked, then settled for her cheek. "We have plenty of time to kiss on the lips." She stood up straight and looked her in the eye. "Are we over Riko now?"

Maru nodded. "Over her. I don't know why I was so upset over her."

"Well, it is a bizarre living situation – shacking up with your girlfriend and her sort-of ex." Yoshiko recalled running into Maru's ex, but she knew better than to bring that up.

Hanamaru turned her head aside and yawned.

"Tired?" Yoshiko asked.

She nodded, eyes half-open.

"Let's hit the hay, then." As they wandered off to bed Yoshiko shut off the lights in their apartment and in their worries.

* * *

 **a/n:** the japanese words for spider and cloud are the same, "kumo," just written differently. that was why yoshiko made a sarcastic remark about hanamaru's name.

oh boy, things are heatin up. i foresee some sex in a chapter soon.


	10. Chapter 12

sorry for the short-ish chapter after such a long delay. when it rains it pours, everything happens so much, and so on. i hope you'll enjoy the you story.

* * *

 **OF DARKNESS AND LIGHT**

 **Chapter Twelve**

What follows for the next month or so is similar to the previous chapter. Yoshiko and Hanamaru got it good and regular from each other. To document every roll in the hay is to document every time a cell's mitochondria converts energy into ATP. Eventually the biology teacher hands their students a new specimen to examine. And so the Yoshiko and Hanamaru slide is replaced (temporarily, you understand) by another.

* * *

Pungent salty water lapped the concrete sides of the wharf in Uchiura. You sat upon its edge looking out at the sea and the Great Deep Beyond. She had missed it greatly while away at college. Coming back to it worked on her mood the way the salty air worked on her appetite. She was beginning to think about dinner. What she had been thinking about before that was typhoons.

She had lied on the phone to Chika. Her father hadn't come home early. Navymen never did. For shipmen their work schedule was built around typhoon season. Her old man came back in July and stayed until January. Out at sea there were no storm cellars when God decided to stir things up (You found it funny how people attributed bad weather to Mother Nature but good weather to God and decided to switch them, her way of stirring things up, if you will).

So, why couldn't she tell the truth? Well, for one it was too complex. A typhoon was forming in the Paw Pad and she was its cause. For two, blaming herself would only burden Chika and Riko further.

The beach was empty. Of course it was. It was still April, too cold to swim. Jul would come and with it the summer people. Families on vacation. Kids home from school. But, looking closely, You saw there was one lady on her own there.

 _She won't be here long_ , You thought, swinging her eyes west. The sky was clear on land, but out over the ocean cumulus were piling up.

 _(cumulus, that's what I said that day, I said, those big fluffy clouds are called cumulus, I said it means Chika is a nerd in Latin)_

You shook her head. She swung her legs onto the wharf and slipped her shoes over her feet. Wharf rats bumbled by. Supposedly they were feisty enough to wallop a man twice her father's size, but she had never had any problems with them.

Dinner, yes. She'd grill that piece of mackerel she bought at the store yesterday among other foods (upon coming home she found the refrigerator empty and decided a restocking trip was in order).

"See you tomorrow, Mom," she said to the ocean before starting up the wharf. Her mom hadn't drowned, but You believed that was where her soul went.

You took another look at the lone lady on the beach. She had dark hair and was dragging a stick around the sand, her other arm hugging her knees. You had just been thinking of telling her it was going to rain soon so she should consider heading home when she realized she knew that dark hair color. She stopped midway up the wharf and squinted. The woman looked up, their eyes met, hers widened, and she looked down.

"Dia?" You called. The wind whipped her voice away. She tried again. "Dia!"

She ran up the wharf, calling Dia's name. Dia stayed seated, playing with her stick. You had a moment to wonder why she wasn't as excited to see her as she was to see Dia before her feet hit the sand and she was strolling up to her.

"Dia! Imagine seeing you here."

"Yeah," she said flatly. "Imagine that."

You leaned forward, tilting her head. "Are you okay?"

Dia looked up at her. Her eyes had that raw, naked look that said tears had passed by there and a cold pit of fear formed in You's stomach. _Her mom's dead. Old Mrs. Kurosawa's gone to the Great Deep Beyond._

"I used to stutter, you know."

You blinked. She did know that, but she didn't know what that had to do with anything.

"Still do… some days. Fffeels like my jaw's… locked up and my t-tongue's… dead. It's not nerves or anything that causes it, but s… Christ," she whispered, closing her eyes. " _Stress!_ does play a role."

 _Domoru Dia, that was her nickname._ Every stuttering kid in elementary school has their own miserable notoriety. You recalled one day taking a stack of journals to the staff room and finding the teachers drawing lots to see which unlucky individual got Domoru Dia for a year.

Now Dia smiled. "… Befitting of the Ku… Kurosawa name, no?"

"Well, stuttering's hereditary, isn't it?"

"It is… and I'm wwwilling to b-bet it… came from my mmm – Jesus… my mom's side."

"Your mom stutters?"

Dia barked a laugh. "Oh, heavens no! Her? S-Stutter? She would nnever. God help me…" She sighed and put her hands on her head.

"If it helps, I think you sound fine most days."

"Yeah, sure. Except… for the w-w-one day where I nnneed to ssssound normal. I… left T-T-T-T..." And here she went into complete doglock, squinting with her tongue stuck at her teeth.

"Tokyo?" You supplied the word without thinking, as many non-stutterers are wont to do around stutterers. Then it hit her. "You left Tokyo?"

"Riko was rrright. I wasn't p-p-prepared. I couldn't get a jo-ob. Just about… wwwwore out the heels on my shoes looking. I tried my hardest… I wwwwent to… college… and sss – come on… studied my ass off. I mmmade the D-D-D-D-D… the List all four years. I t-t-t-t-tried, You. You know I dddid, right?"

"You did." You smiled and sat down. "You worked very hard." She looked back out at the ocean. Then, remembering Ruby had also gone to Tokyo (with a very glamorous magazine job), she asked, "Did you try asking Ruby for money? Maybe move in?"

Dia drew her lips down, as if the very suggestion was preposterous, and shook her head. "I… didn't have to. She offered. And then she sent our parents t-to offer."

"Ouch." You suspected as much. Dia wasn't the sort to humble herself for help.

The clouds were piling higher. The dark underneath them crawled closer to land like a curtain. You knew it was rude to rush a stutterer, but that storm was coming in quick.

Dia also regarded the clouds. "But it looks like I'll have ttto go home and… take them up on their offer. My mmmom always hated m-my stutter."

"Have you eaten? I was just getting a hanker for some grilled mackerel. You might feel better after eating."

"WWWe can't all be nnnneurotypical, Karen!"

"Bullshit," You said, cheerily enough. She stood. "C'mon, I hardly ever get to eat with someone."

Dia stayed sitting, eyes fixed on the ocean.

You rolled her own. "Oh my God, if you really need to pay me back for feeding you you can help in the kitchen. Does that sound okay?"

Dia looked up at her. Thunder rumbled. So did her stomach. You snickered and she looked away, blushing.

* * *

You realized halfway through dinner that they could have eaten at the kitchen table. But she was telling the truth when she said she rarely got to eat with someone. She usually ate in front of the TV. Carrying her plate to the living room was an old habit with a force stronger than gravity.

If Dia noticed she didn't show it. She said her itadakimasu and tucked the mackerel and veggies in. You served up a portion to her late mother, then began eating her own. They remained quiet. Rain and thunder carried on a clashing conversation of their own outside.

"So what'll you do now?"

Dia looked up. "What?"

You rested her chin in her palm. "Think you'll get a place in Uchiura?"

"I… really have no choice. There's that apartment complex by the crematorium."

"Sounds quaint," You grinned. Dia glared. "Can you afford the lease?"

"Of course I can!"

"Dia…"

She stared at You until she was forced to look down. "Alright, I can't. Oldest d-d-d… child in the Kurosawa family and I can't even afford to watch someone's dead grandma go up smoke stacks from my wwindow."

"Maybe if you went to your parents…"

"I'm _not_ doing that."

"Dia, I'm pretty sure they'll understand. I gave my dad pretty short notice about coming home. He was surprised, yeah, but –"

"But he came through because you're his daughter and he loves you." Dia waved her hand. "We're different. I can't g-go back home."

"What's so different?"

"You didn't give up, that's what! You could've if you wanted to, but you ddddidn't. You didn't have to ttturn tail and run home like some eggsuck d-dog. You dddidn't have to lose everything! You didn't fail!" Glaring, Dia blinked and looked away. She ran a hand over her face and sniffed.

You sidled over to the side of the low table nearer Dia and placed a hand on her shoulder. Dia twisted away from it, snapping, "I don't n-need you to cuh… Jesus… comfort me."

You shrugged and withdrew her hand. If she were Chika she would have kept her hand where it was, comforted Dia, forcefed her comfort if she had to. She found herself thinking of the day Chika yelled at Dia and Kanan and Mari (oh my). And how she had yelled! Like a tired mother with her three hopeless miscreant daughters. You struggled not to laugh, knowing that would upset Dia more.

 _Man. I came home to forget about Chika and move on. Why can't I just…?_

"I wouldn't say I didn't fail. And as for coming home… Dia, there's no shame in that. That's what it's there for."

Dia grunted and looked up. Fresh teartracks were drying on her cheeks. In the flickering stormlight her face looked pretty pale. "Why d-did you… leave?"

You sighed, unsure of how to answer this one. _Well, Dia, there was a typhoon forming in the Paw Pad. You see, I was named after the sun, and when sunlight gets trapped under a ceiling of cold air it rotates and pulls the cold air down with it. I was meandering about aimlessly and starting to pull Chika and Riko down to my sad level. I had to get out before I pulled them completely down and a storm broke out._

Yes! Oh, that made so much sense!

"I feel like," You said, "if I stayed at Kawasaki I'd start hating myself."

"Why?"

You shrugged. "Too many things I didn't do that I should have. Too many things that went unspoken. Like you, I didn't heed warnings –" Her voice broke and she paused. _If we keep this up_ I'll _be crying soon._ She swallowed and said, "But I came home, and I'm glad I did. Maybe you'll be, too."

Dia pursed her lips and nodded. While You gathered up the dishes she asked, "Have you found a job?"

"I'll be stopping by the naval recruitment office tomorrow."

"You won't be here very long then."

"Mother Nature willing." You checked her phone a moment, then said, "Hey, this storm's supposed to go all night. I don't suppose you'd like to…"

"No. I should go back… to my parents' house."

"Are you sure? It's really coming down." Then, "But you have your car, right?"

"I sold it, actually."

"Come on, Dia, one night's not gonna kill you."

Dia sighed and thought of her mom. She thought of her saying, "Think of how this looks to your sister, for your father! You just think about that before you decide to…" No, she wasn't exactly eager to go home and face her again and let her know that Tokyo still had her by the boobs.

"Fine," she muttered. "One night."

* * *

 **a/n:** okay so dia doesn't canonically stutter... fuck you, i'm a stutterer and i can make her one too if i want to.

next chapter: will you make it into the navy? how will dia face her mother? why are older sisters always so insane? all this and more on the next episode of dbz!


	11. Chapter 13

cw: child abuse and parents being mean.

* * *

 **OF DARKNESS AND LIGHT**

 **Chapter Thirteen**

Dia stood outside the gate to her old house from when she was a kid. You had told her home was for going back to, yet she still couldn't work up the courage to ring that bell. If she did Ruby might just decide to come home for good and ring the bell, too. Why not? She had done pretty much everything else Dia had decided to do.

She tried remembering the good times she had had at this old place. There were good memories. It wasn't all sturm und drang here at Casa de Kurosawa. Playing with Ruby and their father before she got old enough to attend school. Learning to play the Yamatogoto from her mother. New Year's and birthday celebrations… but those were more bittersweet, seeing as the two sort of got lumped in together, a thing that always made Dia wonder if the collective birthday of the world meant more to her family than her own.

And there was that other bittersweet memory. It was the crown queen of them, overwhelming in its potency, equal parts good and bad. It was, Dia thought, what led her mother to hate her.

It was her third year in middle school. Young Kurosawa Dia was just starting to get the hang of talking without a stutter. Stutters never really go away, even well into adulthood, but there are tricks one can adopt to lessen its impact. Talking in a slow, measured fashion helped. So did adopting an accent or a sing-song voice on sounds you knew were going to give you hell. Words flowed smooth as butter from her mouth. Good God, she had no idea talking could be so smooth and easy. It was becoming addictive.

She came home from school feeling a little despondent at not being chosen for class rep. Her stutter was mostly gone, but her reputation still preceded her.

 _I'll run next year in high school,_ she thought, taking off her shoes. She heard chatter in the next room; Ruby must have been having a friend over. _I'll go someplace where they don't know I was Domoru Dia and become class rep. Maybe I'll even run for student council!_

Smiling, she stepped into the living room to say hi to Ruby and meet this new friend of hers.

Her smile dropped and with it the great drawgate of her speech block.

"Hi, sis," said Ruby. She and this other girl were drinking tea, their bags piled in a corner. "This is Kunikida Hanamaru, a girl from my class. Maru-chan, this is my sister Dia."

"Hello," this Maru-chan said in the thick patois of the Shizuoka native, nodding politely.

 _Hello. Nice to meet you. Be good to my little sister._ The words were there but they refused to come out. Dia couldn't say the same for herself. If ever she doubted she was gay this… _Maru-chan_ (with such a cute nickname could she be for real?) blew them all away.

So she nodded in response and then ran off to the kitchen before either of them could see her blushing.

This Maru-chan's voice carried down the hall behind her. "Did I say something to upset her…?"

"No?" Ruby's voice. "Maybe her stutter's bad today."

 _Oh, Ruby, did you have to tell her I stutter?_ In her embarrassment Dia forgot that she would have quickly figured it out. She was wishing she and this Maru-chan had never met… and at the same time she felt blessed by meeting her.

Dia grabbed a glass and filled it with some much-needed water.

"Are you okay?"

Dia cried out and dropped the glass. It shattered on the floor.

"You clod, look wwwhat you made m-me d… d-d-do!" she yelled, rounding on Ruby.

Ruby squeaked and shrank back. She was the only one who could be intimidated by Dia in spite of her stutter.

Dia sighed and ran both hands through her hair. Then she bent to pick up pieces of glass. Ruby helped.

"If you're worried about stuttering in front of her," Ruby whispered, "it's okay. I told her you do, and that it doesn't mean you're stupid or something."

"Yeah, th-thanks a bunch… for that. She probably thinks I'm c-cuh-razy now anyway."

Ruby shook her head. "I doubt that. She probably thinks you're shy, if anything." Had Ruby known of her sister's secret sexual orientation she would have been far less bewildered by why she would care so much about what some girl she just met thought of her.

Mari noticed Dia being weird at lunch the next day. As usual she was quick to figure it out.

"Someone's got a schoolgirl crush."

"I duh-duh-d-d –"

"What's her name?"

Dia glared at her miserably. Mari stared back, not grinning for once but cocking an eyebrow in interest. Dia finally looked down and, squirming, murmured, "Maru-chan."

"Maru-chan? What is she, a cat?"

"She's a minx, that's wwwhat she is! Here I was, puh-puh-perfectly happy with my l-life and she has to come around and mmmmake me stutter and like her a-and…" Dia scowled and shook her head. "Maru-chan. Fucking Maru-chan."

Kanan came over with her lunch. "Who's fucking Maru-chan?"

"Not her," said Mari, pointing at Dia. Dia fixed her with a glare that was so hot it was practically radioactive.

"F-Friend of my suh-sister's."

"You don't mean Kunikida Hanamaru?" Kanan asked. "The one whose family runs that temple in Numazu?"

"Her family has a… temple?"

Kanan nodded. "They're pretty backwards, I've heard."

"Maru-chan's not backwards!"

"Hate to tell you this, but she kind of is. I was checking out a book for history class the other day and she asked me what a graphing calculator is."

Dia drew her lips down. That was pretty out there. But then, none of them had any room to judge – the stutterer, the butch, and the damyankee.

"Well, look at it this way," said Mari. "If Kanan knows her then she's almost definitely gay."

"I dunno. She d-doesn't…" Dia nodded toward Kanan, "look gay. She's pretty girly."

"Are you saying I'm obvious?" Kanan asked.

Mari muttered, "If the Birkenstock boot fits…"

Kanan looked back and forth between the two of them, glaring. "I could be not so obvious, you know. I could spend a thousand yen I don't have to get my hair styled and crap. Oh, and I could phrase all my sentences? As if they were questions? And like compliment boys endlessly? On the oh-so hard things they do? Like breathe? Oh, senpai, please breathe more for me!" Kanan made a great show of swooning and fluttering her eyelashes and Mari giggled. "I could do all that, but I prefer to keep my flame burning bright."

"That gives me an idea," said Mari.

 _Uh oh._

"In cop shows they never wrangle a confession out of someone by harsh interrogation. They just talk very casually, you know, lure them into this false sense of comfort and camaraderie. They get them to unknowingly bring up their crimes themselves."

"Are you saying we should have her a-a-a-a…" Dia gave up and made a clapping motion around her wrist.

"No, silly. But if we wanna figure out if she's gay we gotta send in the big guns." Mari smiled and looked toward Kanan.

Dia also looked toward her. Then she nodded and dropped a fist in her open palm.

Kanan blinked, then laughed. "You want me to hit on her to see if she's a lesbian?"

"You're the best we've got." Mari stood. "Dia?"

Dia nodded and stood. The two of them hooked a hand each under her arms and hauled her up. Kanan whined as they dragged her away to the library.

" _That's_ Maru-chan?" Mari whispered from their hiding place behind a tall bookshelf.

"Y-Yeah," Dia said, unable to stop herself from smiling. She couldn't quite bring herself to look at her. It hurt too much. The pain wasn't entirely unpleasant though.

"She's so… _tubby._ "

"Maru-chan is _not_ t-t-t-t-t… fat."

"Not yet, but she's already inclining towards it. Okay, Kanan, do your stuff."

"You didn't even let me finish my lunch," Kanan muttered.

"If all goes well Miss Maru-chan'll give you something nice for lunch."

Dia squawked and someone somewhere in the library shushed her. She grabbed Kanan by the shoulder and shook her. "DDDon't steal her from me!"

"I don't even want her." Kanan shrugged Dia off, dusted off her skirt, then made her way to the main desk. Hanamaru sat there, eating red bean paste and reading a book of Murakami poems. God, she had such nice hands. They were round and clean and looked like they'd feel good to hold. Dia watched her and Kanan converse with a jealous lover's eye. Maru seemed pretty eager to help her, and she even seemed to blush at one point.

"Well, I'm greenlighting her," Kanan said later that day after school. The three of them were hanging out in Dia's bedroom. The late bell after lunch didn't give Kanan much time to give an immediate response. "Good luck to you, Dia. Just know that if you don't ask her out I will."

"I thought you… didn't want her!"

Kanan clucked her tongue. "That was three hours ago. A lot can change in three hours – practically everything."

"So, Kunikida-san's your type?" Mari asked.

"Not gonna lie, she's pretty cute."

Grinning, Dia hummed and nodded assent.

"Huh. I didn't know you went for… heavier girls." Mari fished a candy bar out of her bag and began chowing. "Still," she said around a mouthful of chocolate, "first Kanan and now you, Dia. I'm beginning to feel like the straight girl out."

"You're not straight," Kanan said, laughing.

"No," Dia agreed.

"I'm very straight. C'mon. Do I look gay to you?"

"You look pretty damn gay when you're grabbing my boobs." Kanan placed her hands on her own breasts and gave them a light squeeze. Mari flushed and looked away.

"They're boobs. Everyone likes boobs."

"For sure," Kanan said. "I just don't see why you can't sate your thirst for them by playing with your own."

Mari rolled her eyes so far back she looked like a Japanese Orphan Annie. "Oh my God, why are we talking about me? Dia's the one with the crush. Dia, what do you think of Maru-chan's boobs?"

Suddenly caught in the crossfire, Dia squeaked.

"C'mon, you're a healthy gay teenage girl. You've surely noticed them."

Dia opened her mouth to speak, but her stutter was so complete and so bad what came out was nothing more than the vocal equivalent of a keymash.

"Mari, I know how much you love to judge fat people," said Kanan, "which is a really disgusting thing to do by the way. But give Kunikida-san credit for this – fat makes for a nice rack."

Dia whipped her notebook out of her bag and slashed into it with a pencil. Then she slammed it down with her message facing them: STOP IT!

Kanan and Mari blinked.

Breathing hard through her nose, Dia turned the page and slashed another message in angry notation: THERE HAPPENS TO BE MORE TO A GIRL THAN HER CHEST SIZE! THIS IS MY SISTER'S FRIEND! SHE'S A **PERSON!**

Kanan looked down guiltily. Mari said, "Of course she is, Dia. Sorry."

Dia's mouth worked at words that came slowly but surely. "… MMMaybe I want t-to… kih-k-k-kih-k-k-k – oh, come on – _kiss_ her and huh-hold her and see what she… looks like when sssomeone flirts with her. But first I'd like to ttttttalk to her." Dia looked up miserably. "And I… can't do that, you know?"

They both nodded. Kanan placed a hand on Dia's shoulder.

The door banged open then and all three of them jumped. Dia's mother, Kurosawa Mashiro, came in with a platter upon which sat three cups.

"M-M-Mom?"

"See, this is why I don't want you skipping speech therapy, dear." Her mom screamed a short laugh. "I brought you… girls… some tea." She served it up and was out of there faster than you can say "buu buu desu wa."

Kanan picked up her cup. "It's lukewarm."

"Do you think she was listening in on us?" Mari whispered.

They both looked at Dia, who had her head down. She was trembling. Then she was laughing.

"Oh my, I just love my life right now!" Wheezing, Dia fell on her side. Tears of mirth squirted from her eyes. Mari tentatively laughed with her. Then Dia began crying.

An emergency family meeting was called later that night. Dad and Ruby looked a tad concerned, Mom a tad livid, Dia a tad grim.

"Dia. Is there something you wanna tell us?"

Dia's eyes scanned her family sitting around her. She shook her head.

"Huh. Nothing you wanna come gaily forward about?"

"Mom," said Ruby, who was twelve at the time, "is sis okay?"

Mashiro sighed. "No, Ruby. In fact, I'd say you should think twice or more before you decide to bring your little friend here." She looked back at Dia, her nose wrinkled. "Your sister… Let's just say she'd have certain uses for her that regular women quite properly don't have for each other."

Now, ten years later, as she stood before the gate sweating and shivering, Dia was able to impose an adult's reasoning on her past child's mind: _I didn't want to use her, Mom! I wanted to love her!_

But that reasoning was ten years too late and at fourteen Dia thought, _Yeah, maybe I would. Maybe I did notice her breasts a little. Maybe I was just a little too happy when I thought of her._ Swallowing back tears, she looked down. She supposed Maru-chan was traumatized, would grow up damaged and distrustful of everyone, would wake up in the cold of night from horrible dreams (all this trauma in spite of the fact that Dia had hardly talked to the girl).

"I don't understand," her father said.

"Oh, wake up, Yuki. She's a lesbian. A pervert."

By now Dia was actually crying. She looked at her father. He looked down. She wished he hadn't done that. She wished Ruby, who was staring at her with wide eyes, hadn't seen her cry.

"Don't cry, sis." She reached out to pat her back.

"Don't touch her, Ruby!" Mashiro snapped and Ruby withdrew her hand as if from a basket of snakes. "Did you think about your poor sister before you decided to stalk her only friend? Did you think of your father? Did you think any reasonable person would buy fish from a man whose daughter preys on younger girls? Dia! Did – you – think?"

Much as Dia agreed some retribution was earned she had had enough. She sobbed, "I'm s… suh-suh-suh –"

"Would you stop it with that stutter! Jesus, Dia. How old are you? Stuttering's baby stuff." Her mother waved her hands around and said in a wavering falsetto, "I'm suh-suh-suh…"

Kurosawa Yuki spoke up. "Mashiro, I think that's enough."

Mashiro sighed and regarded her sniveling daughter (oh, how it stung to call her that right now). Every person was born equal and the same, each with his or her own blank slate. Here is your blank slate, friend, now let us see what you can carve into it. Some people carved flawlessly. Others didn't, but they could if they decided to work a little harder. There was almost something kind of heroic about those who worked extra hard to get that perfect slate. Then there were people like her youngest sister and eldest daughter who just decided to keep fucking up and fucking up and _fucking up._ The kicker was she was ruining Mashiro's slate. And Yuki's. And Ruby's. That was what really got her steamed. Her perfect family with their successful business and beautiful estate. The little running sore didn't seem to realize just how much she had bitched everything up.

"Look, I did everything I could about your stupid stutter. Now hopefully you'll be more cooperative when I do something about your preferences. Dia, I think you've been around too many girls. Maybe some testosterone will do you some good. You'll be attending a co-ed high school. In fact, I'll be filling out your applications –"

"Mashiro!" Yuki cried. His very _tone_ infuriated her, as if she were a child having a temper tantrum.

"What!"

"You can't do that. This is her future!"

"You think I don't know that, Yuki? At least I am thinking, unlike her. She's just thinking with her… dirty dyke vagina." She rounded back on Dia. "I know what girls like you are about. Recruiting innocent little girls. And then getting your hands on their private parts. Not just Wednesday for you, oh no. You've gotta have it everyday."

Staring at her lap, Dia said, "Sounds t-t-to me like you've slept with a few 'perverts' yourself."

She heard a low hum of air and a bright sensation exploded in her left cheek as Mashiro's hand connected briskly with it. Dia's head rocked aside and her left eye teared up afresh. Out of her line of vision Yuki had thrown his arm across Ruby like a soccer mom who has gone too sudden and hard on the brakes and wants to keep her kid from flying out through the windshield.

All was quiet for a moment, save Ruby sobbing. The bright sensation left Dia's cheek and now warm tingling pain filled the vacuum where it had once been.

Mashiro stood, eyes wide, as if unable to believe she had done that. She had never hit either of her kids before. She looked around at her husband and other daughter. Poor Ruby was hysterical. Yuki was looking at her like she was some kind of monster.

Quietly she said, "I think I'm done here." Shaking out her hand, she scurried off to her bedroom. Dia likewise got up and ran off to hers.

Mari was one of many people who exclaimed over the bruise the next day.

"Christ! What the hell happened to your face?"

"Fell," Dia muttered, wincing and turning it away from her hand.

"Was it your mom?" Kanan asked.

"She and I had a… lllittle argument last night. I dddon't want you getting involved," she added, noticing how Kanan cracked her knuckles.

While she waited on Ruby after school (avoiding the stares of her passing classmates), she heard a somewhat familiar voice at her shoulder.

"How's your face, zura?"

Dia looked around. Maru-chan was there, cute as ever, even if her expression was a bit drawn. Her mother's slap had failed to knock to her feelings away. Dia's legs still got watery around Hanamaru.

"Better."

"That's good!" Maru said, favoring Dia with a bright smile. Overwhelmed, Dia looked up at the sky, feeling her cheeks get hot, the left one slightly faster than the right.

Maru put her hands behind her back and spoke more quietly. "Ruby-chan told me it was because you're… you know…"

Today Dia was a little too tired to get worked up over Ruby telling her this. She only hoped she had left out the part about her liking Hanamaru – she didn't need her blaming herself. "Yeah," she said, a dry grin playing across her face. "I'm you know."

Maru nodded and they were both quiet for a moment. Then she said, "Can I tell you something?"

"That I'm going to hell?"

Hanamaru sighed and shook her head. A cool spring breeze ruffled her hair. Dia stared at it, stealing it, loving it, wanting to plunge her fingers in it and stroke it.

"If you're going to hell," she said, "then I guess I am, too." She looked up at Dia with a knowing little smile.

A squeal escaped Dia's lips. She clapped both hands over them when Maru held a finger to her own. Incredulous, she whispered, "You're you know?"

"I think I'm you know. Maybe."

Dia didn't want to ask this question, but if she wanted to make those insults and that slap worth something she knew she had to. "Is there someone you like?"

A huge silly grin pulled at Hanamaru's mouth. She was actually bent over a little with giggles. Well, now Dia knew. She knew what Maru-chan looked like when she was in love with someone and she knew that someone wasn't her.

"It's really sappy, but I can't help myself," said Maru. "It's this girl from my kindergarten class. Yoshiko-chan. Really ambitious and imaginative. Kinda cute, too. The other kids made fun of her because she couldn't do scissors properly in a game of janken, but I thought that was neat. Interesting. Better than being boring, right?"

"You're not boring, Ma – Kunikida-san." Again, the adult superimposed a sense of compassion toward young Hanamaru, who would run into Yoshiko after nine years apart only to find she'd turned into an utter basketcase, but what the kid felt was an exhausting sense of loss.

Maru smiled up at her. "You're a good person, senpai. I hope you find someone someday who makes you feel as good as you are."

* * *

You trundled on home, her backpack full of documents that ultimately proved useless slung over one shoulder. She was tired and sad. She had tried everything. She trotted out her father as a reference, her B.S. in atmospheric sciences, her latest physical which showed she was in peak shape. The only thing those dudes wanted her captaining was a desk. When she had breached the subject of captaining a ship the recruitment officer had laid her application face-down on his desk and said, "Give me a break."

"Hi, You."

You cried out in alarm and nearly fell flat on her keister. Her glasses fell off one ear and hung askew on her face. "Dia?" She adjusted her glasses. "I thought you were going to see your parents."

"They weren't home."

"How long have you been out here?"

"A couple hours."

"Christ, you must be parched. Do you want some water?" You unlocked the door and pulled Dia inside.

"How'd the Navy go?"

"Eh, not good. I guess women aren't strong enough to handle ships."

"Even you?"

"Even me. Even with these puppies." You raised her right arm and flexed. Her T-shirt twitched and Dia imagined strong back and shoulder muscles bunching up in there. She swallowed.

"So… What now?"

"The National Weather Service, I guess."

"Yeah? Giving reports?" Dia smiled, imagining You in costume saluting in front of a Doppler radar screen. "Yousoro!" she'd say. "Today we're seeing a line of storms moving through the Chiba prefecture…"

"Actually," You said presently, "I was thinking of becoming a storm chaser."

Dia frowned. "That sounds dangerous."

"They train you. And, I mean, so's the Army."

They ate dinner together in the living room while _The Young and the Bold_ played on TV. Tonight's meal was surf and turf. You finished first and, mopping steak sauce off her mouth, said, "You wanna try your parents again?"

Dia was completely absorbed in the TV show. Her eyes flicked toward You. "Hmm? Oh. Uhh… You know, they like to go out a lot on Tuesday nights."

"Do they now?" You smiled. "Do you wanna stay over another night?"

Dia frowned. "Oh, I couldn't…"

"I really don't mind if you want to."

Dia sighed and looked over at her with hooded eyes.

You's smile widened. "I'll get out the futon."

* * *

 **a/n:** idk this chapter speaks for itself. the next one will be a bit cheerier. i just had to get this one out of the way.


	12. Chapter 14

**OF DARKNESS AND LIGHT**

 **Chapter Fourteen**

You was an only child, but she was not the only one her mother had borne. The second had been dark, malignant, taking more than just her blood to survive. It gestated in her uterus and then her liver and lungs as well.

After she died it was like You's father had as well – only he dwelled above ground in front of the TV with a bottle of sake in his lap. The cancer had held on to his wife, but he held on to her to, continued to after her death. And then, a year later, he got up. He got up and cooked dinner and joined the Navy and moved on.

You had only been five when her mother died and didn't have the option of taking the year off. When you're a kid you have everything decided for you – when you're going to go on with your life included. You don't like it, but in the end it's for the best and you're grateful.

When you're an adult moving on is oh so much harder.

* * *

"What about her?" You giggled, pointing her empty beer bottle at the TV.

Dia pursed her lips and shook her head.

"Not her either? What is wrong with you? She is _gorgeous!_ "

"She's straight," she said, nodding at the equally gorgeous (but male) plastic surgeon the natal surgeon on TV was talking to.

"Oh, come on. This is supposed to be make-believe!"

Half an hour ago You had switched on a rerun of a hospital drama and started playing a game of Which Female Cast Member Would You Sleep With with Dia. Outside a stray cat dozed in the sun, dreaming of birds that are blue.

"You're a make-believe whore!" said Dia.

"Am not!" You laughed.

"Are too! You've slept with twelve women in the last half hour!"

"If I were a man I would not be a slut. So! I am not one. I am a girl who's moving on."

"If you call getting day drunk and propositioning imaginary sex with actresses 'moving on' –" Dia stopped and rolled her eyes. Why was she bothering? There was no reasoning with someone who was sloshed in broad daylight. She wondered if old Captain Watanabe knew his money was going toward his daughter lollygagging about and getting drunk at noon.

The thought of parents made her realize she was no one to judge when she was too scared to face her mother. And Dia wasn't exactly gainfully employed either.

You went into the kitchen and returned with beer number six. "Hey," she said. "What was your first time like?"

Dia started, then glared. "Who wants to know?"

"Me, duh. I'm the one who asked." You's nose was red. Her eyes had that simultaneously dull and shiny look drunk people's got. "I'll tell you about mine in return. It was with Chika."

 _So much for the "in return" part._ Patiently, Dia said, "Chika? Well, you and her have always been close."

You slapped the wall she was leaning on (practically hanging on for balance). "Right? She and I have been together since the beginning. She was even there for me when my mom died."

 _Some people have all the luck_ , Dia thought.

"If anybody was to be my first it had to be her." You swayed and knocked back a swig of beer. On TV a patient was dying on the table. Push epi, hang another blood bag.

"How old were you?"

"Eighteen."

"You did her in high school?" Dia shouted, amazed. She sure didn't waste time making Chika her fated first.

"No, we were in college," You said, giggling. "It was our first weekend home, though. Lotsa people went home then. Prob'ly already missed their fam'lies."

 _Or their families missed them_ , Dia thought, remembering how her mother ordered her to come home the first weekend. She had done the same with Ruby. But the year before that… yeah, she supposed You and Chika had been weird then. But God, who hadn't been that year?

"We were up in her room flipping through a magazine. You know that model, Mizushima Mizuki – God, try saying that five times fast. I would happily be doing that in bed with her, by the way. She is so fucking _hot._ "

You was on a roll. Dia could only sit and listen and try not to imagine her in the throes of passion with some beautiful model.

"I wonder if she still has that magazine? I hope so – it's like, I dunno, what do they call a keepsake item from some event? Umm… Whatever. Anyway, where was I? Oh, yeah. The bathing suit spread. Mizumizu's in this bikini and… my God. 'Have you seen anything more beautiful?' Chika asks.

"'You,' I wanna say, but you know I can't say that. There's somethin' weird about looking at a swimsuit spread with the girl you like. Kinda sexy. Anywho, what I do say is, 'Picture of Venice at sunset.'" You chuckled and shrugged. "And Chika – the madwoman – she says, 'Fine. You go down the Grand Canal, I'll go down on her.'"

"Chika said that?" Dia asked, half-surprised. This was the girl who suggested Kanan and Mari do the dirty on a bowling lane.

"College had an effect on her. Me, too. All of us probably. Place reeks of sex, even the most reserved girl gets a little horny. Memento!" she said suddenly. "That's what they call keepsake items. Heh, if Chika still has that old thing I imagine it's very well-loved. Mizumizu has such an amazing body."

"What about you and Chika?"

"I'm getting there, hold yer horses. Hmph, Kurosawa Dia likes herself a good sex story!" You laughed as Dia glared back redfaced.

"Me and Chika, yeah…" She got a wistful look on her face. "I could smell her hair. Flowery. A nice, clean smell. She starts talking about how good she'd treat Mizumizu. The image of them together's a bit more'n my little gay mind can take, and Chika knew it. She's drawing closer and closer, looking me right in the eye. Then we're kissing. Then her hand's down my pants. I'm _this close_ –" You held out her hand, her thumb and forefinger a bare centimeter apart. "… when…"

Dia sat crosslegged, leaning forward with wide eyes and held breath. _Give her this, she makes one hell of an audience,_ You thought.

She banged her hand against the wall. "– Her mom comes in without knocking."

Dia exhaled and sat back. "They always do," she said. "Do you think she saw… you two…?"

"I dunno how she couldn't have. Two daughters married off but the youngest li'l spazzmoid likes pussy." You blinked and swayed. "Likes… sy…"

"You?" Dia dipped a leg off the couch. "Are you okay?"

You jerked her head up. "Huh! Tired, I guess. Too much beer. Stuff really weighs you down." She yawned, gestured vaguely at the stairs. "I'm gonna…"

Dia nodded. "Yeah. Pleasant dreams."

* * *

Shortly after You stumbled off to her bedroom Dia pulled out her phone and did a search on Mizushima Mizuki. She had dark hair, which was good. The point of contention was her chest. _That is a DD cup. Un-friggin-real._ But they were. Any girl can tell by looking. Dia looked down and thought, _Confound it. I can't compete with that._

* * *

Dia was eating pizza in the kitchen when You came downstairs. Her shirt fell off one shoulder and her hair corkscrewed wildly off her head. Seeing her like that made Dia kind of sad, and she realized she would have to say what she was thinking of saying.

"I ordered pizza."

Okay, not that. That was just a starting point.

"I see that," You said. She was almost whispering. "I'll stick with water."

"You should have something."

"If I have…" She paused and flinched. "… literally anything but water I will throw it up, and I don't want to do that right now." She looked up at Dia. "How bad did I embarrass myself earlier?"

"I've seen worse," she said honestly.

"Good."

"Which is why you should be fine with crackers." Dia pulled a sleeve of saltines out of a box and thrust them at her. "Eat these. Trust me, you'll feel better."

You half-smiled up at her. "Sounds like you know a thing or two about embarrassing yourself, too."

Dia frowned. Well… yes. She had indeed had her share of nights where she did and said things she regretted in the morning. Her, Kurosawa Yukitaro's eldest daughter, getting sloshed and…

But wait. That wasn't the point.

"I didn't get drunk in broad daylight. I didn't hang on to a girl who didn't love me for five years."

The smile fell slowly from You's face. "You don't know that she didn't love me."

"Neither do you. The only one who does know is Chika herself. Oh, and I guess also Riko – you know, the girl she _has_ been in love with for a few years."

"You don't need to shout."

Dia shut her mouth. She didn't know she had been shouting. _Oh, I do need to work on that. This is how you become just like…_

"Maybe I did get clingy," You said. "But I'm not like that anymore. I've moved on."

"I don't think you have," Dia said slowly, trying to keep her tone gentle. "You said you planned to at the grad party. You said you were tired of partying it up on a college campus. And okay, we're missing the glowsticks and people and Rihanna playing at full blast. But, those aside, what do you call getting bombed and talking about your lay with Chika?"

"I went home, didn't I?"

"Physically, yes. Mentally, though? You are still back at Meisei U. You may as well have never left."

You took off her glasses and scrubbed a hand over her face. Part of her was wondering why Dia was so mad over a little day drinking (unclassy as it may be). In her nigh twenty years without a mother this was the closest she came to feeling like she had one. Well, there was also the time in high school when Mari gave her a piece of her mind about her behavior. And – surprise, surprise! – that had also been about Chika. Some things never changed.

Somewhere in the tender, aching caverns of her mind echoed the realization: _Neither have you. You have not moved on at all._

Her breath caught and she swallowed hard. Hot tears cooled on her hands.

"Oh – Oh God, You, I'm sorry." Dia reached out with both hands. One touched an overwarm shoulder. "I didn't mean to make you cry."

Cry she did, and Dia made no attempt to stop her. _You did enough damage. You may as well put a gun to her head and blow it off._ She did apologize, which was more than what her mother did for her.

 _Oh, stop it! I am not like her! I never will be!_

"I'm sorry," Dia said again. She put her hands in her pockets. "I shouldn't have yelled. I went a little overboard."

You hiccuped and shook her head. "I'm such an idiot. I should be yelled at."

"No one should," said Dia, thinking of a time she overheard her parents arguing. Her father said, "I hate it when you yell," and her mother said, "I hate it when I have to."

 _I said stop it. This isn't about you and your mother. This is You._

You looked up. "Do you think she ever…?"

"Loved you?"

Fresh tears spilled down her cheeks. She wiped them and nodded.

"I don't know. Maybe. Maybe she still kind of does." One of the weird things Dia discovered growing up is that love goes on. You get into new relationships, but there will always be the memory of love. Life changes, love doesn't. Both go on. "But I doubt she's going to leave Riko for you or something."

You kind of didn't want her to. She had wanted Chika, but not as her plan B. Not as her other woman.

"She shouldn't have hurt you. I don't know much about love, but I don't think it's supposed to hurt this much."

"W-Were you ever in love?"

"Hey now, there's only room here for one stutterer," Dia said and You laughed. "And maybe."

"You never told me about your first time."

"I was hoping you had forgotten that." Dia sighed. "Get yourself some water and have a seat. I'll tell you."

You put her glasses back on. She grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge and sat down. She was shivering. She uncapped it and took a swig.

"It was Mari."

The swig went out her mouth in a spray.

"You're supposed to swallow it, you dehydrated dunce!" Dia grabbed a handful of paper towels and mopped up the mess.

You coughed. "Mari… Ohara Mari? _Our_ Mari?"

"Yes, yes. She was my first." Dia fussily scrubbed out the final traces of water.

"Were you and her, like… a couple?"

"No. It wasn't even romantic sex, though my eighteen-year-old virgin self felt otherwise." Dia pointed firmly at the water bottle. You sipped from it as she launched into her tale.

"I knew I would be having sex very soon. When you go to college it happens eventually. I was scared, very scared. A lot of things about sex freaked me out – allured me, you know, but scared me all the same – but I think the one thing that worried me the most was disappointing someone with my ineptitude."

"If she loves you I think she'd understand," You said around a mouthful of saltines.

"I didn't get that. Back then I thought love was something you had to work to earn day in and day out."

"My God. What happened to you to make you think that way?"

"Do you want to hear about me and Mari or not?" Dia wasn't liking the way You was looking at her, like she was some pity case. What person let their kouhai look at them like that?

"So," she went on, "I got this idea in my head. This bad idea. I'd have a friend have sex with me so that I'd be less freaked out when my someday girlfriend wanted to do it. Between my two best friends Mari seemed more likely to go along with this plan. Kanan might have, but I think she would have gotten weird afterward. Mari agreed to on the condition that I didn't.

"I was walking over to her dorm and telling myself, 'Okay, Dia. This is just going to be a oneshot thing. You won't get attached.' But I underestimated how… personal sex is. Having someone come into your body and make you feel things you've never felt before. Turns out you can't cheat your first time."

A tear fell down You's cheek. "You fell for her."

"I guess I did. I was weird anyway. Afterward I hounded her for a relationship. The…" The speech block kicked in and Dia sat there with her lips together. "… poor girl – I was talking so good today – she couldn't get away from me. I bombarded her voicemail. I was crazy. She must have really hated me then.

"But I did move on."

"How?"

Dia shrugged. "We were students. Mari was in a particularly intensive field of study. I wasn't, but all the same I got swept up and one day I realized I couldn't remember that night so clearly. I had breakfast with Mari and while we waited for Kanan to show we were like, 'Haven't seen you in awhile.' 'Yeah.' 'So, are we done being weird?' 'Yeah.'"

"You still haven't told me exactly what happened. I gave you details. What'd she do to you?"

Dia toyed with a pizza crust and looked down. "She, uh, went down on me."

You hummed and smiled.

"She kinda stopped dead in the middle. Started playing with herself. Teasing me." Dia cleared her throat and looked up at the ceiling, rapping her crust against the table. "She was… pretty good."

"Was there the whole kissing and clinching in the throes or was it strictly business?"

"We kissed. Mari wanted to make it authentic." Dia set the crust down and looked back at You. She seemed less dehydrated; the shivering had stopped anyway. "I think you should get a job."

You sighed. "I really wanted to be in the Navy."

"Yeah," Dia said softly. "I know. You would have been an excellent Navywoman. But if you really want to move on from Chika you need to get involved in something. Of course, I'm one to talk when I'm squatting in a friend's house. So, I'll look too if you will."

"This is for the better, right? I mean, she's not gonna come home for me only to find that I've left her behind?"

Dia thought You should be so lucky. Imagine if Chika came crawling back, her life in shambles, to find her old flame at the peak of success. Chika? Who? Oh, her. It was sort of like when Izumi Satoko reduced Maru-chan to a piece of chubby chaser spank material. Dia had hoped her life would fall apart, too. If you thought you hated people who wronged you Dia hated them enough for ten of you.

"I don't think that's going to happen."

You looked down, then nodded. "A job," she said slowly, smiling.

Here's the thing about moving on: the world never stops, and it won't pass you by while you lay down. Contrary to how it feels, you are moving with the world in the great marathon of life. And you're not alone. People are waiting for you at the finish line. These people who love you don't want you to finish first; they just want you to finish. So you can stick back with the people and things that aren't rooting for you, or you can go cross that line. And when you do these people there will be ready to take you out for a celebratory pizza.

* * *

 **a/n:** hoo boy, i wanted to make chika seem kinda dumb and clueless to the whole situation, but the way this turned out i don't think i can defend her anymore. sorry chika fans.

we'll be switching back to yohamaru in the next chapter, but this isn't the end for you and dia.


	13. Chapter 15

**OF DARKNESS AND LIGHT**

 **Chapter Fifteen**

Yoshiko squinted at the early morning sunlight filtering through the curtains as she woke slowly. Hanamaru laid beside her. She closed her eyes, basking in both their warmth. Life was good.

She felt Maru's hand land lightly on her bare chest and mumbled, "Again? Christ, Zuramaru, I'm beginning to think you're a sex maniac."

Hanamaru withdrew her hand. Yoshiko grabbed it, rolled on her side, and pulled her in close. "I just wanna be like this for a little while," she whispered, her arm settling around her waist. "That okay?"

Maru smiled. "Mm-hmm."

Yoshiko pulled in a deep breath. She was dozing. She had almost crossed the threshold to sleep when Maru's voice sounded from the other side. With an effort she forced herself awake.

"Hard to say if I'm a sex maniac or if… I don't know… It's like there's this Beast inside me that's been asleep and you woke it up like – well, like a prince in a fairy tale. And it is hungry and the food you're giving it is _really_ , really good."

"A Beast, huh?" Yoshiko said, amused. It made sense – Maru sure gobbled her nether regions like a hungry Beast anyway. And Yoshiko had to concede she had been feeling a greedy woman's hunger for good sex as well. If Zuramaru was a sex maniac then she supposed she was, too.

She reared up and kissed her softly. "I'll feed it in a moment… just after I get a li'l more sleep."

"Mm-hmm. I love you, Yoshiko."

"I love you… t…" And with an angelic snore she was asleep.

* * *

They never really had any deep discussions after lovemaking, no waxing philosophical about the meaning of their relationship. But today as she sat on the bed and watched her girlfriend pick through her clothes a topic of some depth came into Yoshiko's head. She had thought of it before, but today was to be the day she finally worked up the bravery to talk about it.

"Have you seen my underpants?" Maru asked.

Yoshiko shook her head.

Maru stood there with her hands on her hips, eyes scanning the floor. Then she looked sharply at her. "You don't have them, do you?"

"Why would I, uh, have them?"

"You little…" Maru pounced, laughing. "Has anyone ever told you you're a terrible liar?" She shoved her hand in Yoshiko's pocket. At the same moment Yoshiko's hand found Maru's bare ass and pinched. The resulting cry was one both of surprise and of triumph; Hanamaru flew back, her hand clutching a pair of panties.

"Naughty girl," she said, tapping her nose. They kissed a few times, clinching, one standing the other sitting. After pulling back Maru placed the panties in Yoshiko's hand. "Here, have them. I was about to take a shower anyway."

"Without me this time?"

"Without you this time." Hanamaru giggled.

Yoshiko smiled down at the bunched-up underwear in her hand, thinking back to the other day. God, Zuramaru looked so good with soap water running in rills down that perfect body of hers.

 _Man, I haven't been this horny since I was a teenager._

"Zuramaru."

"Hm?"

"When you're done showering there's something I wanna talk to you about."

Maru turned away from the dresser. "What?"

Yoshiko fidgeted. "Well, I… can't talk to you about this when you're half-naked."

Hanamaru hurriedly fished out clean pants and underwear and pulled them on. "Okay. Now what?" She sat down on the bed beside her.

 _Damn. I was hoping she'd go shower to give me more time to think about how to say this._

"Hanamaru. I love you, so much. You're a big part of my life."

Maru smiled.

"But there's also my ma. She's a big part of my life, the only family I've got – well, her and a couple aunts… I… I'd, uh, like you to have dinner with me and my ma. I'd like you to meet her."

Maru blinked. "I have met her."

"As my friend. Not as my girlfriend." Yoshiko smiled. "I want us to be official."

"Official… Oh, Yoshiko." Hanamaru put her arms around her and laid her head on her shoulder. "I'd love to!"

"It's almost summer. I thought we'd do it then while we're already visiting our families."

 _Families._ Maru froze.

Yoshiko felt it. "Of course, there's your parents as well…"

"Yeah."

"You know you don't have to."

"Yoshiko, please understand that I want to."

"I do. I know. If you wanna survive in a heterosexual world you gotta keep things under wraps."

Maru sighed. "I still don't like it. You're like some secret I'm keeping from my family. I feel more for you than that."

"Well, if it makes you feel any better I don't bear any resentment – not towards you anyway."

"They're my family and I love them. I guess I also feel more for them than keeping secrets. Maybe since I'm their daughter and all they love me more than to let me go on keeping them."

"You talkin' 'bout coming out, Zuramaru?"

"I… I don't know. When I was a kid some girl's mom popped her one on the face after she came out."

Yoshiko twisted around in her arms to look right at her. "Who? Was it Riri? It would explain a lot."

"No," Maru said. "Not her." The way she said "her" made Yoshiko feel like it was some other girl she knew.

"You don't think _your_ parents would hit you?"

"I'm not sure. They never spanked me or anything. But…" But what? What she wanted to say was "gay is different and worse than any bad kid thing I've done," but Maru felt like that didn't do her feelings justice. The fear in her ran a bit deeper, so deep that even Hanamaru, a writer, had trouble articulating it.

She tried, though, slowly. "My parents know a couple whose son ran down a priest while drunk driving. They had friends whose eldest daughter sprinkled Comet in a Bundt cake. They know of a kid who got high on spray paint and set fire to the neighbors' shiba inu. I know they know these people because I've met them myself and I've heard my parents talk about them. Yet they spoke of no one whose kid was gay. This struck me as bizarre, but the message was clear: Being gay was the worst thing anyone could do, like so bad it's unspeakable."

 _An unspeakable evil_ , Yoshiko thought, but she knew better than to be Yohane right now. She was in all honesty a bit too angry to be Yohane. She felt a dull frustration. As Maru's girlfriend she should have been able to solve this problem. Like the song went, it was them against the world. And with this problem she was here for her. But there was nothing she could do here. No amount of talking or kissing or fucking could make the Kunikidas like gay people.

Beyond their room the apartment door banged open and Riko called, "Yocchan, you there? I need a little help."

"Just a sec," she called back. She looked at Maru. "Thanks for telling me this."

Maru smiled and nodded.

"We'll figure this out." Yoshiko kissed her a few times. Then she got out of bed to see what Bermuda Gay wanted.

* * *

"Yocchan, you coming?"

"Yeah, yeah. Can it already," Yoshiko said, not unkindly.

Riko sat crosslegged on the living room floor, a wide flat cardboard box in front of her.

"What's that?" Yoshiko asked.

"Say hello to our new firepit. The old one was bought used off a guy from Music Theory and it lost a screw recently and…" Riko paused and waved a hand. "Anyway I need help assembling it."

"Sure thing." Yoshiko cracked her knuckles. "Are we doing a bonfire today?"

"Yeah. Tonight after dinner. I got marshmallows and these things that turn the flames different colors."

"You mean I get to have green fel flames?" Yoshiko whispered, delighted.

"Uhh, no? I mean, they don't turn one color. They turn like a bunch of colors."

"Oh, so it's a pride fire."

"Yeah, sure. Chika was the one who taught me about the flame colors, as well as how to build a fire." Riko smiled. "She loves herself a bonfire."

As if on cue the door opened and Chika slumped in. She was dressed in her work uniform and a coat of sweat. She looked around listlessly; then her eyes widened when she saw the box.

"Okay," she said. "I was about to complain about work and how much I hate the breakfast shift, but – oh my God, fire! My day is already getting better."

"Your day getting better makes mine better," said Riko. "Check it out – we got smores and colors."

Chika squealed and threw her arms around her. "Am I in a fairy tale? 'Cause I married a prince! Oh, I love you!"

"I love you, too. You smell like onions, Chika. You better go before I get hungry and eat you up."

 _She'll feed the Beast._ Unable to stop herself, Yoshiko laughed.

Still holding Chika, Riko fixed her with a sour glance. "Oh, hush. You don't get to laugh at me being sweet on my girl. Not after all the nights you and yours kept us up."

Yoshiko's smile sank faster than the Titanic. "You… Are we that loud?"

"Yes," said Chika.

Riko shook her head. "The walls are thin, that's all."

Chika pulled back. Pointing twin finger guns at them, she walked backward toward the hall. "I'll help you guys out after I'm done changing – Oop! Sorry, Hanamaru."

She had backed into her and now shifted to get out of her way.

Maru stepped into the living room, freshly showered and blow-dried. "Ooh, what's that?"

"Hell's darkest pit of f…" Yoshiko looked up and her mouth suddenly became too dry to talk. "…ire," she croaked.

It's normal for people to dress down when the weather's hot. If you take the time to stare at every bare shoulder you'll exhaust yourself. Riko was dressed down in a sleeveless blouse and shorts. But Riko always dressed as such when it was hot. Further, she was not Yoshiko's girlfriend with the most perfect body she had ever seen.

But Hanamaru – oh my.

"Do you need help?" she asked.

"No, we're fine," Riko said, amused at Yoshiko's expression.

"You're… wearing shorts," she said at last. "And a tank top!"

Maru looked down at her apparel and shrugged. "It's hot."

 _Yeah, no kidding_ , Yoshiko thought, heart racing. Maru usually wore big baggy clothes, regardless of temperature. "You look good."

"Thanks." Maru smiled.

"Up for a bonfire tonight?" Riko asked.

"Sure! Wow, I've never been to one! Will there be marshmallows?"

"Yep."

"Jeez, I love marshmallows!"

"Don't wet your pants, Zuramaru."

Maru laughed. "We keep incense burning back at home so I might be useful." She snapped her fingers. "Oh, that reminds me. I should call my daddy." And she disappeared into her bedroom.

"Okay, Yocchan, eyes over here."

Yoshiko blinked and remembered she had been assembling a firepit before she got lost in a fantasy. In it she had Maru as she was dressed. She had yanked the front of the tank down over one breast and sucked on it. Her fingers worked on Maru's thighs before tearing those shorts off and fucking her until they both exploded.

"This takes me back to the early days of mine and Chika's relationship," Riko said fondly. "Whenever it got hot, why she'd practically strip down to her underwear. I always hated that." She fell quiet, tightening a screw. What she failed to mention was that the sight of Chika in only a bra and panties worked her up like nothing else. She had hated that, too. "But I'm not so hard on her anymore. Nope, I'm a lot more mature n– _Why is your shirt off!? Stop taking your shirt off all the time!_ "

"It's hot," Chika whined. She sagged against the wall, dressed in only a bikini top and a pair of shorts so short you could practically see her undies.

"Great maturity, Riri. Stop throwing screws at her. We need them for this thing."

* * *

Yoshiko wound up leaving Riko and Chika to figure out the firepit to be with Hanamaru. She was hoping to realize that fantasy she'd had.

She found her laying on their bed reading a book.

"Hey," she said, sitting down on the edge.

"Hey." Maru marked her place and set the book aside. "How's the firepit?"

"Hot. It's coming."

Hanamaru sucked in her breath as Yoshiko pulled her shirt off. If Yoshiko thought the sight of Maru scantily clad left her weak she had no idea what her own body did to her. She had a cute butt, Maru thought, and the most perfect vagina she had ever seen (even though she hadn't seen many).

Yoshiko let her hair down and tried to wink. "You wanna say the same for us?"

Hanamaru laughed. What a way to come on to someone. "You have to ask?"

As they made out Yoshiko whispered, "I don't think I've seen you dressed like this since high school."

"Freshman year of college," Maru corrected. Her hand slid down Yoshiko's pants, found an ass cheek, and caressed. "I really look good in this?"

"I think you look good in anything." She kissed her. "I think you look good in nothing." Another kiss. "That kinda tickles."

Hanamaru slid her other hand down and worked on both of them. Atop her Yoshiko squirmed. She loved her squirms. "I guess all this fooling around you and I've been doing has gotten me to stop caring either way. It's hot – why shouldn't I dress like this?"

"Yeah… Why not…?" Yoshiko was really beginning to wish Maru would touch her clit.

A knock on the door sounded. Riko's voice: "Sorry. Can I come in?"

"No," Yoshiko said immediately.

A pause. "Jeez, are you guys up to three times a day now?"

"This happens to only be our second time. Go away."

"Yocchan, please?"

Yoshiko sighed. She looked down at Maru. Hanamaru nodded and removed her hands from her pants. Yoshiko rolled off her, mumbling about how Bermuda Gay owed her.

"What?" she grumped, cracking the door.

"I forgot to get firewood. Do you think you could?"

"Can't you or Chika get it?"

"I already got and assembled the pit. And Chika just worked a five hour shift. She's exhausted." Riko turned her head toward her bedroom. Chika was slowly pulling the strings of her bikini top loose. She waltzed topless into their room, her bare back a clean pale canvas on which Riko could picture her front side. She swallowed and turned back to Yoshiko. She bounced from one foot to the other restlessly. "Also, you and Hanamaru aren't the only ones here who'd like to get laid."

Yoshiko snickered and Riko glared.

"What did Riko want?" Maru asked.

"Firewood." Yoshiko pulled on her shirt. "Want to come with? I think you'll want to."

"Why?"

Maru's answer came from the other room: a soft moan.

"Oh," she said. "Yeah. I'll come with."

* * *

next time: summer break (even though they graduated). we'll meet with the kunikidas again and mama tsushima. we'll catch up with ruby, and you and dia. i still have no story ideas for kanan and mari, so they'll be busting their butts at med school.


	14. Chapter 16

**OF DARKNESS AND LIGHT**

 **Chapter Sixteen**

"Yeah, I know I forgot to call the past two weeks. I'm sorry, Mom."

Yoshiko watched amused as Hanamaru bowed several times, her fossil of a cell phone clutched to her ear.

"It's fine, I guess. Your father's more upset about it than I am. But he's forgotten what it's like to be young." In the background Hanamaru heard the flick of a lighter. "When you've got a boyfriend your mom's just so much more boring."

"Ah, yes…" Maru glanced sideways at Yoshiko. "…My _boyfriend._ "

"When do we get to meet him anyway?"

"Uh… You will…" Her face, already oiled with sweat, began to drip with it. "Eventually."

"Will he be available over summer? Maybe then…"

"Yeah, uh, maybe then… Um…" Hanamaru walked up behind Yoshiko and tugged her hair sharply.

"Ow!"

"Oh my, looks like Yoshiko-chan hurt herself! I have to go. Love you, too. Bye."

"Thanks a lot," Yoshiko growled, rubbing her scalp. "I hope our kids have blue hair so that when I'm bald I can relive my sexy hair glory days through them."

When Hanamaru didn't respond Yoshiko looked up. She was standing behind the sofa staring blankly at her phone.

"Zuramaru?"

Maru blinked and looked up. "Huh? Oh, sorry, Yoshiko. I was… just thinking."

Yoshiko nodded. "About your parents?"

"Yeah. About them." Maru sighed. "I can't keep this lie up for much longer. They really want to meet my 'boyfriend.'"

"I'm still willing to go in drag," Yoshiko said in the deepest, manliest voice she could muster. She had hoped Maru would laugh but she didn't.

"I should have spoken up, been more insistent. I shouldn't have let them go on believing I was dating someone."

"How did they get to believe that?"

"It was during graduation. I answered a text from you in the middle of lunch. They thought you were my boyfriend. My mom's given our marriage the okay, by the way." She tried to laugh at the irony.

"Try telling them you're not dating, period. You're single. That doesn't make you gay, just…" Yoshiko shrugged and named what she thought she herself had been before she came out: "a girl with refined tastes."

Maru scowled. "They'll try and set me up with guys."

"Call and cancel each one. Name illnesses. Work emergencies. Then block their numbers."

"I can do that?" Maru asked, amazed.

"Yeah, why not? If you can lie about a boyfriend you can lie about work."

"No, I mean I can block numbers? I can keep people from calling me?" Zuramaru was looking at her cell phone as if it were some sort of god.

Yoshiko smiled and held out her hand. "Yeah. Give it here. I'll show you."

Maru handed it over and bent so her head was close to Yoshiko's.

"Okay, so you go here and – Christ on a cross."

"What?" she asked, worried.

"What the hell is up with your voicemail?" It was filled to capacity. "No wonder I can never reach it."

"See, that's why I need to block people. They're just… sales calls."

Curious, Yoshiko called it. Hanamaru gave her her password and she sat back listening in utter shock to these messages. The callers offered Maru everything in the world, from free iPhones to male enhancement pills.

"Why're you looking at me like that?" she asked, squirming.

Yoshiko smirked, eyes hooded. "Nothing. You're just…" She shook her head. "…the most incredible person I've ever met." She pulled the phone back in front of her. "Annnnnd they're all deleted."

"Can you show me how to do that, too?"

Yoshiko showed her. "There. Now when I call you and your phone's dead – which it almost always is – I can leave you a message."

"They have names for girls my age who are still single," Maru said uncertainly once her phone was straightened out. "Are you sure about this?"

"Which would you rather be to them, a seamstress or a dyke?"

Maru nodded thoughtfully. Japan had no love for single women, but at least your parents didn't toss you out on your ass for it.

"Have you called your mom?" she asked.

Yoshiko sucked in air through her teeth, eyes wide.

Maru looked at her disapprovingly. "I'm here passively avoiding my parents because I'm gay. Your mom actually likes you, so what's your excuse?"

"I keep forgetting!" Even though they had the apartment to themselves Yoshiko lowered her voice to a whisper. "I think you're going at me too hard. You're fucking my brains out." She then shook Hanamaru, yelling, "Give me back my memory, foul demon!"

"Go call your mother, you spazz."

Whining, Yoshiko got up and pulled out her cell phone. She had been neglecting to call home longer than Maru had. This had been a bad habit long before they started dating, never mind fucking.

"Hello?"

"Hi, Ma," she said quietly.

A second of silence. Then: "Can it be? My daughter, calling me?"

"Ma…"

"My child would not call her mother. Why, her mother could die and she would never find out."

 _God, what a drama queen_. "I'm sorry, Ma. I screwed up."

Naoko seemed to decompress. "Well, something important must be going on for you to call. Are you okay?"

"I'm fine."

"Eating good? Not just binging on crap?"

"No, Ma. But speaking of eating…" Yoshiko looked toward Hanamaru and smiled. "How would you like to have dinner with me and my girlfriend?"

Maru smiled back and winked.

"Uh, I'd love to! Wow! I finally get to meet her?"

Yoshiko hummed and nodded.

"No wonder you haven't been calling! You've been too busy staining the sheets with her!"

"Ma!"

Hanamaru looked up in alarm, then relaxed when she saw Yoshiko seemed to be resuming regular conversation. She thought back to her confession at the Junction (how long ago that seemed!); Maru had overheard Yoshiko yelling at her mom over the phone and thought they had had a falling out over her health. _Maybe they don't fight,_ she thought. _Maybe they're just… a screamy family._

"I thought," Yoshiko said, "we'd all have dinner at home this summer."

"Well, I don't mind that, but can she make it?"

"Oh, yes, she doesn't live far." Yoshiko smiled at Maru again and tried to wink.

"Okay… Well, then, what's she like? Is she like an athlete or the bookish type?"

"I'd say she's moreso bookish."

"You must like her a lot. You're giggling like a li'l schoolgirl."

"I'm giggling 'cause it's Zuramaru, Ma."

Naoko was quiet but made up for her silence a hundred times over a second later. " _HANAMARU-CHAN?_ "

Maru broke out laughing, partly because she could hear Mama Tsushima from where she was sitting, partly because of the look on her beloved's face as she pulled the phone away from her ear.

"You and Hanam- you and Kunikida- _you and her?_ "

Now Yoshiko was laughing, too. "Calm down, Ma."

"This is a joke?"

"Would you call my Zuwamawu a joke?" she cooed, taking Maru's hand and kissing it.

"Yoshiko, I won't disown you for being a lesbian. But I might if you talk like that again." She sighed. "Man, I really wanted to show your girlfriend pictures of you when you were little."

"You still could. It'd still be fun."

"Oh! I could show her that one of you in the living room when you were four – the one of you holding a broom? Do you remember that one?"

"We are not showing her that one!" Yoshiko was red up to her ears. What her mother failed to mention was that she was _naked_ holding a broom. Yoshiko knew that if any of her friends saw that she'd never hear the end of it.

"It's such a cute picture, though. You and your egg-butt."

" _Ma!_ "

Naoko clicked her tongue. "Fine. But I wanna show her something of you she hasn't seen. How 'bout some baby photos?"

"Those won't do either."

"Well, gosh, Yoshiko. You're really sucking the fun out of this upcoming dinner. Would you agree to if I didn't show her any from your first month?" Naoko paused. "Does she know you had-"

"No." Yoshiko lowered her voice and darted down the hall. "She doesn't know about that yet."

"How does she not know?"

"I haven't told her."

"But surely she'd have to have noticed?"

"Yeah." Yoshiko held out her right hand. It was a mostly normal hand – normal except for how the middle and ring fingers bent sharply toward each other. And how when she tried to curl the last two fingers under her thumb all dexterity would go away and her fingers free of control would do whatever. She attempted the gesture now, made "scissors," wound up curling and uncurling her hand as she shook it out.

"Zuramaru's sweet and kind and a good friend and girlfriend, but she hasn't really connected the dots. I plan to tell her, don't worry."

"You know you don't have to be ashamed of it."

"Yeah."

"It's kinda neat. It makes you special. Stronger."

"Yeah." Yoshiko agreed with the first two parts. She didn't, however, know about this making her "stronger."

* * *

A few days later found Maru at the store. The weather was getting hotter still; she found herself stocking up on more tanks and shorts. She smiled, thinking of what Yoshiko had said one day when she got home in such apparel: "How many poor, helpless women do you think you drove crazy with that perfect body of yours?"

She had heard Kanan and Mari behind her a second before the latter called out to her; it sounded like they were talking med school stuff.

"So, how's it going?" Mari asked with a wink.

"Oh, you know, okay. Things are nuts at the library. I'm getting out of there for the summer just in time."

Kanan and Mari looked at each other. Fiddling with her basket, Kanan said, "I think Mari meant how'd things go with you and Yoshiko's 'anatomy and physiology lesson.'"

"Unless you really need to vent about the library," Mari added quickly.

"Oh! No… Uh…" Maru switched her basket to the other arm and lowered her voice. "It went great."

"Yeah? She liked your technique?"

"She loved it. It drove her crazy."

"Wha'd I tell you? Teasing is a sure winner in the bedroom."

Maru nodded. "It was until she outdid me. She's not so bad at… that herself."

"Competing! Very good!" Kanan looked impressed. "Mari and I used to do that. I of course won."

"Um, I thought I won last time," Mari said. "Hello, crown queen of muffdiving?"

"You couldn't even speak afterward last time. I totally won." Kanan smirked, an eyebrow cocked.

Mari leered back. She knew Kanan was quite competitive. She herself wasn't, but God damn, when your competition was as cute as Kanan was you couldn't resist going all out.

Turning back to a confused Hanamaru, Mari said, "Well, that was all before med school swallowed us up. Now we don't really have time to 'compete.' Speaking of…" She put her hands on Kanan's shoulder and turned excitedly towards her. "Babe, aren't you going to tell Hanamaru what you'll be doing this summer?"

Maru looked up at Kanan. She was chuckling and shuffling her feet. Yet when she spoke her voice carried the spark of excitement. "I'm doing an appendectomy."

"Holy moly! You get to operate?"

Kanan grinned and nodded. "I get to operate."

"Who's the patient?"

"Katsumi Hiroshi… I think."

"Wow. And he's okay with a student doing it?"

Kanan paused, her grin falling. "I don't think he cares one way or the other… seeing as he's dead."

Maru mouthed "oh" and nodded, then looked down.

Trying to break the awkward atmosphere, Mari said, "It's still a big deal. All we've done so far are labs and lectures. This'll be the first time one of us has gotten to cut."

"Yeah," Kanan said, regaining her enthusiasm. "Even though he's dead it'll feel good to, you know, do _something_ instead of just reading about it."

"Yeah, congratulations," Maru said. She glanced down at her watch. "Well, sorry I can't stay and chat, but I agreed to help Yoshiko with dinner."

"Of course, can't keep you from the wife," Mari said. Her hand did a poor job concealing a grin. "See you around."

Maru walked off to checkout, swinging her basket casually. Once she was out of earshot Mari took Kanan's hand and said, "So, doctor, what do you say you and I postpone the shopping and go home to have a competition?"

Kanan smiled, then looked around to make sure no one could see them holding hands. "Right now?"

"Yes, ma'am." Mari was using that low, husky voice that drove Kanan nuts. The competition hadn't even started and she already wasn't playing fair. "You're up here thinking you won the last round. I can't have that. So let's go. I'll have you so weak you won't even be able to say 'uncle.'"

* * *

Kanan's back finally settled on the bed, her hips giving one last weak buck. Panting, Mari sat up on her heels. Her hair was a royal mess. She pushed it out of her face and looked at Kanan. She loved how she looked after a good orgasm. Every muscle in her body stood out for her to see along with a few dim veins roped around them. Mari felt her motor try to start up again, but she was too spent to sustain much arousal.

Kanan's mouth worked and she said, "Yeah… Okay, you win. Oh my Lord, that was great."

"You shot me quite a nice trophy." Mari traced her fingers through it: a thick, creamy first prize running out of her. She slipped them back inside her and hooked them, trying to pull the rest of it out. What she pulled out went in her mouth. For Kanan the sight of that did to her what her post-coital musculature did to Mari.

After making out for a few minutes Mari whispered, "I want some water. Do you want some water?"

Kanan nodded.

Mari kissed her nose and got up to go to the kitchen.

A pile of envelopes caught her attention and she paused to sift through them. Her eyes fell on one and narrowed.

 _They don't take no for an answer, do they?_ Swiftly, silently, she jerked the envelope free and fixed the rest to make them look as though they had never been touched. Shivering naked, she slid toward the oven and dropped her mail behind it. _Say hi to your brother for me._

"Mari?"

She nearly cried out. Her nipples went hard and hurtful. Her head shot up and she expected to see Kanan in the doorway, her eyes hurt and accusing. But she didn't. The doorway was empty. Kanan was still in the bedroom.

"I'm coming, babe." Her voice cracked. She got the water and skedaddled out of there, eager to put distance between her and the envelopes, two trophies she didn't want.

* * *

 **a/n:** sorry for the slow update. i haven't been feeling much like writing. but! some good news: s2 is coming in october. also, my sister is getting married in october. so i'm sure i'll be high on new anime and weddings and crap enough to put out chapters at a faster clip.


	15. Chapter 17

she protec she attac but most importantly she bac

* * *

 **OF DARKNESS AND LIGHT**

 **Chapter Seventeen**

Ever since she had started attending college Yoshiko had felt like a guest at her childhood home whenever she went back to it. This, she realized eventually, was because her mother no longer made her do any chores. But that good old safe at home feeling came back when she went snooping through the kitchen to see what she could throw together for lunch while her ma was away.

She and Naoko went through the usual song and dance when Yoshiko got home. First Naoko pulled her into a huge, crushing hug. Then she yelled about how Yoshiko wasn't eating enough. After she had gotten some food in her she twisted her ear and scolded her about something. Usually it was how infrequently she called. This time, however, it was Hanamaru.

"Why didn't you tell me earlier that you were dating?" This news, now a few weeks old, was apparently still sending Naoko into fresh states of shock. "Have you fucked her?"

"Ma!"

"Well, you were little kids with her. I'd think that would take some of her charm away. I couldn't do it with a childhood friend."

"What if he grew up to be hot?"

Naoko thought that over, then shook her head. "No. You've never seen him, but trust me, someone like him… No, there's no way he could possibly grow up like that."

Yoshiko shrugged and nibbled a cookie. _You never know_ , she thought. _Zuramaru thinks I'm hot and I kinda doubt the kid who drank from a bottle until kindergarten would grow up like that._

"You and her. Jesus Christ. Were you two dating during graduation?"

Yoshiko nodded.

Naoko put her hands on her hips. "Well, why the hell didn't you tell me then?"

Yoshiko sighed. "Because, Ma, you were chomping at the bit to out her to her parents when she was just my friend to you. Telling you we were dating would have only added fuel to that fire."

Naoko chewed her lower lip and looked down. "Fair enough. But why wouldn't Hanamaru-chan wanna tell me? I'm your mother!"

"She doesn't know you. She doesn't know how you'd handle that. So she kinda kept her distance. I don't blame her," Yoshiko added. "Please don't embarrass her at this dinner."

"Honey," Naoko said in a very serious voice. "Do you think I would really embarrass her?"

* * *

As for Hanamaru it didn't take long to feel at home. Summer in the Kunikida household with its complete lack of air conditioning meant marking your place in a book with drops of sweat – the last page dotted was where you left off. Maru had burned halfway through a novel (fanning herself with one hand) when her mother came in her room.

"Amazing," said Matsuri, looking around. "You've barely been back and your room's already a mess."

"I'll clean up before I go back!" Maru said.

"It's fine. I'm just astounded at how quickly you were able to mess it up. You're like a tornado." Matsuri preoccupied herself for a moment fiddling with something on her daughter's dresser. Then she looked up and said, "I'd like you to get your bath early today. Your father's invited the Nakamuras over for dinner. You know them, right? They're the ones with the son who's…" One side of her mouth fell down and she waved her hand vaguely.

"He's in choir."

"Yes, choir. He's quite the, um, singer. And dancer, too, I've heard." She was smiling, as if at a secret joke.

"Yoshiko-chan invited me to have dinner at her place. I can go, right?"

Matsuri looked at her, surprised. "Uh, yeah. Of course." Her daughter had never objected to these formal dinners Umenosuke held for some of their patrons. Then again she was an adult now, able to decide some things for herself, and she may have decided she didn't care for "choir singers" like the Nakamuras' son. And that was fine, that was just about okey-dokey peachy-ducky. As long as she didn't hurt him Hanamaru could think whatever she wanted about the guy.

Maru was planning on cleaning herself up before dinner anyway. And so shortly after talking to her mom she went off to take a bath.

Matsuri immediately set upon the room getting it as clean as possible. She did this in interest of making less work for Hanamaru on her last day. She tipped over the laundry bag and pawed through its contents, emptying pockets of things that could be destroyed in the washing machine (her daughter like her husband was a tad forgetful).

She thrust her hand in the hip pocket of a pair of shorts and came out with some bundled-up black thing. Curious, she unbundled it and found herself face to face with a pair of black cotton panties.

 _How weird_ , she thought. _Now why'd she go and put her skivvies in her pocket?_ Looking at them again, however, they seemed a bit too small to be hers. To be sure Matsuri matched them with a pair from the basket.

Hanamaru had taken some other girl's underwear and stuffed it in her pocket, not unlike a boy who had gotten laid for the first time…

Matsuri dropped the underwear and turned away from the laundry. After pacing the room she took to flipping through a notebook Maru had left on her desk. Her daughter had done some bad, stupid things as a kid, but she wasn't no "choir singer." Okay, yes, she was a choir singer, but she wasn't a…

Matsuri couldn't even bring herself to think it.

She stopped on a page with no writing on it but a bunch of hearts drawn all over it. In the hearts she had written the name "Yoshiko."

Dinner. Yeah, right. What was on the menu? Shaved pork? Or perhaps shaved…

Oh, but she couldn't bring herself to think of that either. Maybe a drink could help coax those thoughts out. And so, head thumping, Matsuri walked out of there on stiff legs.

* * *

Yoshiko tried to make eye contact with Hanamaru as she let her inside, but her gaze kept drifting upward. Naoko seemed to be grappling with the same problem.

"Hanamaru-chan!" she said nevertheless. "C'mon in! You hungry?"

"Yes, I am." Her voice trembled.

"Well, good! Good. We're having somen tonight. Say, aren't you gonna come in?"

"Oh. Yeah!" Maru took a stiff step inside. She had her arms pinned to her sides this entire time, and Yoshiko wasn't at all surprised to see sweat stains when she raised them to take off her shoes.

"Get you some wine? Or do you prefer beer?"

Maru sighed in relief. "I would love some brine – wine! I meant wine!"

Smirking, Yoshiko inwardly made a joke that the author cannot in good conscience write down due to recent events… Think of things that can be brined and a group of people which lost their shit over that which can be brined (along with sauces).

"That is one high ponytail," she murmured as Naoko bustled into the kitchen.

"Yeah? Do you like it?"

Yoshiko's lips drew back in a tight smile as she looked back up at it. It was high indeed, and Zuramaru's hair was pulled so tight against her head it practically screamed.

"I know it's different from how I normally tie it," Maru said, toying with the scrunchie that bound it. "I wanted to look nice for your mother. Nice, but not too… slutty."

"You did a good job."

"Thank you!"

"I didn't mean that as a compliment, Zuramaru."

Hanamaru was dressed in a white long-sleeve blouse buttoned all the way up to her throat and a brown skirt that swished around her ankles. Not only that but she seemed to have pulled on a sports bra in a vain attempt to flatten her chest. As it was, the bra squished the two breasts together into one monoboob lump. She looked like the world's youngest canvasser, come to the Tsushimas' door to tell them about the horrors of abortions and genderless restrooms.

"Most hetties think we're predators. Slut's an upgrade for us. And anyway you don't have to worry," Yoshiko whispered. She put a hand on Maru's back and guided her to the living room. "Ma's nervous, too."

Hanamaru hummed uncertainly.

Naoko came back with two glasses of ice cold white wine. "Here, this ought to cool you off – Hanamaru-chan, dear, aren't you hot in that – Yoshiko, do you want wine, too?"

Yoshiko suppressed a grin (it would earn her ear a healthy twist) and accepted the second glass. Naoko went back into the kitchen and Yoshiko whispered, "See? And she got Chianti. When it's just us it's Cherry Blossom. This stuff's about five thousand yen a bottle."

Hanamaru almost spat her five thousand yen mouthful back in alarm. Yoshiko meanwhile sniffed her glass before taking a sip.

Naoko re-emerged with her own glass and settled into the armchair opposite them. Hanamaru noticed she had rolled her sleeves up to her shoulders. She took a sip of wine and sighed.

"Much better. This time of year I always get to thinking we're not meant to live so close to the equator. Especially nowadays."

"The weather's getting pretty insane," said Yoshiko.

"A friend told me a few months back that we're supposed to get more tornadoes this year," said Maru.

"Well, Mother Nature's delivered," said Naoko. "Two fuckin' tornadoes on the ground at the same time in Kumagaya. And just last week like ten touched down throughout Japan in a single day. That is absurd. I'm not looking forward to typhoon season." As if the accentuate this she took a deep gulp of wine. Her face creased as she swallowed it. Then: "So, Hanamaru-chan –"

"Yes?" She jumped in her seat as if she had been goosed.

"You and Yoshiko have known each other a long time."

"Yes."

"When would you say it was you became attracted to her?"

"Yes – I mean – oh, uh…" Hanamaru grimaced and scratched at the side of her head. This was the universal gesture for thinking something over, but Yoshiko, who watched as a few strands of hair popped loose from her super tight ponytail and curled around her face, knew better.

"I don't know, really. We parted ways in elementary school and reunited in high school. It was sometime between those two things that I…" Maru paused, grumbled something, then pulled the scrunchie off. Shaking her hair back into place, she continued, "…realized how much I missed her."

"Aren't you hot? I don't mean the way Yoshiko thinks you are-"

"Ma!"

"I'm fine."

"Don't need to tell me that." Naoko winked.

"Ma, will you shut _up!_ "

"Hey, you watch your fuckin' mouth." But Naoko was smiling. Hanamaru couldn't help smiling with her. Turning away from her fuming daughter, Naoko asked, "What's your favorite thing about her?"

Yoshiko stopped glaring at her mother long enough to look at Maru.

"My favorite thing, huh…" She smiled and leaned forward, as if sharing a great secret. "Sometimes when she's happy she does this thing with her hand…" Maru placed her own over her mouth and scrubbed it back and forth. "That. Like she's trying to stop herself from smiling. She doesn't need to. I wouldn't laugh at her just for being happy."

Impressed, Naoko looked at Yoshiko, who blushed and looked away. Her hand came up to her face, then dropped.

Maru continued, "Hopefully I'll be with her long enough to have more favorite things. But right now that's number one."

"What's number two?" Naoko asked.

 _Are we really gonna sit here and go through Zuramaru's top one hundred?_ Yoshiko thought. _I don't think my heart could take it._

Maru took a deep breath and considered her girlfriend. Yoshiko had her hands clasped between her knees. She wasn't looking at her, but Hanamaru could see a pink cheek raised in a smile.

Maru grinned and shrugged. "Her cute butt."

Yoshiko's smile fell faster than Lucifer.

"Zuramaru…!"

"Oh, that reminds me!" Naoko said, getting up. "You have to see her old photo album!"

"Ma!"

But it was no use. It was all out of Yoshiko's hands. The two most important women in her life were going to strip her pride down to its feet. Well, pride _was_ a deadly sin.

Yoshiko didn't see because she was too busy stewing (brining, you might say) in embarrassment and praying for mercy in Satan's name, but Hanamaru's face broke out in a huge smile when she saw that picture.

"Isn't that just precious?"

"I hate that photo," Yoshiko grumbled.

"I'm sure you do. But it is cute." Maru flipped backward, making the depicted Yoshiko's younger still. "That is some great hair."

They had come to her infancy. Yoshiko's blue hair crested up and back like a little baby mohawk.

"Yeah, I had a lot of hair." Naoko had left the room to prepare dinner. The two women flipped through the album on their own. "Did you?"

Maru shook her head. "I was bald. My parents told me people mistook me for a baby boy." She flipped some more. "You were small. Not a preemie, exactly, but…"

"Yeah. Well, um…yeah."

"Skinny. You were skinny for a baby."

Yoshiko shifted uncomfortably. "Yeah. I wasn't neglected or anything," she added quickly. She pointed at a photo of her two aunts playing with her. "I was just…"

Hanamaru came to the pictures taken shortly after Yoshiko's birth. Her mouth fell open.

"…Unlucky."

It's said that all newborns look the same, but that wasn't why Hanamaru didn't recognize her. There was just no way such a frail, sick thing could be full-grown and alive in front of her. Wires and tubes covered every inch of the baby's body. She was closed off in a clear box with holes on either side for a pair of hands to slip into.

Her mouth still open, Hanamaru looked up at Yoshiko.

Yoshiko looked down, not liking the way she was being looked at, as if she was sick now instead of almost twenty-four years ago.

"What hap– I mean, what did you-"

"Epilepsy. Neonatal epilepsy. I think. The docs never gave me an actual diagnosis. I was having seizures, that was all they knew. Some 'doctors,' eh?"

Hanamaru didn't say anything.

"They tried to pin it on my ma. Accused her of drinking or doing drugs during the pregnancy. She's been stubbornly insisting she didn't. Being a single twenty-two-year-old probably didn't help her case much," she muttered in the reflective tone used by someone who has spent years thinking about this but has only just noticed this particular detail.

Naoko came out of the kitchen ready to call them in for dinner. She hesitated when she saw them talking in hushed tones with somber looks on their faces.

"It went away, obviously," Yoshiko was saying. "Epilepsy does that."

Naoko blinked and for a scary, disorienting moment it was like she was back at that hospital being shouted at by those doctors. She shuddered, shaking that memory off as a dog will with fleas. She knew she should be happy Yoshiko was telling her girlfriend about this. The happiness would come later. For now, though, she only wanted to leave them alone and wait for this feeling to pass.

"Epilepsy doesn't affect a baby's mental development. Or it didn't with mine, anyway. But it did leave me with one little quirk." Despite the darkness of this subject Yoshiko was smiling.

"Quirk?"

"Yup. And I don't mean the superhero kind. Gimme some paper, Zuramaru. Janken – _pon!_ "

"Scissors!" Hanamaru said wonderously. "How do – sorry for asking you this – how does epilepsy make you do that?"

"Don't be sorry. We're not exactly strangers." Yoshiko rolled her hand from wrist to fingertips on the coffee table. "My seizures happened in the part of my brain that rules dexterity and motor control, the parietal lobe. That's what my research told me. My ma told me during my seizures my arms would go numb. So, I think they were 'focal parietal lobe seizures.'"

"You really did your research."

"Somebody had to if those doctors wouldn't. And I really didn't wanna believe my ma would drink and do drugs like that."

They sat in silence, each with her own thoughts. Yoshiko wondered if Hanamaru was going to treat her like a ticking time bomb from now on, as if she would start seizing out right now even though she hadn't done so in twenty-four years. She was a mostly open book, but this was for sure her deepest darkest secret. For Maru she could only think about a formerly epileptic kid raised alone by a poor teacher standing atop a slide and pointing towards the skies. _"The truth is, I'm actually an angel, and one day I'll grow wings and fly back to heaven!"_

An angel. She sure had one guarding over her the day she was born.

Maru turned her head and kissed Yoshiko on the cheek. "You're a good woman. I'm glad you're here."

Yoshiko smiled. "Thanks. I am, too." Then, to lighten the mood: "Look, there's that bottle I carried 'til kindergarten."

Maru laughed. Yoshiko was pointing to a close-up photo of herself sucking down formula, her eyes tired and unpinched as if the bottle had stopped her crying.

"Sick or not," Maru said, "you were a really cute baby."

Naoko wandered in and, in an unusually subdued voice, said, "You ladies ready to eat?"

Hanamaru nodded and stood.

"I need to use the bathroom first," said Yoshiko.

Maru took a seat and looked around. It was a small kitchen. The fridge was dotted with bumper stickers – Naoko's idea of home décor.

 _There's no village idiot here – we all take turns._

 _Don't mess with me – I'm a mother._

 _Horn broken, watch for finger._

And, Maru's favorite: _Cyberspace scared me so bad I downloaded in my pants._

Naoko poured herself a fresh glass of wine and Maru said at length, "I love her."

"I know you do."

"No, I mean… I can think of a million favorite things about her, but when I'm with her all I know is that she is one of the good ones, hard as she tries to make people think otherwise. That is rare. Not everyone is like that. And I think part of the reason she came out so good is because you did such a good job raising her."

Naoko stared at her with a comical expression that bore a strong resemblance to Yoshiko. Then she looked down and cried out as she saw wine spilling out over the glass. She put the bottle down, paused, and then scrubbed a hand back and forth over her mouth.

Maru stood. "Let me clean that up –"

"No, no. It's fine." Naoko wiped down the counter and asked roughly, "So, what, you want my permission to marry her? Thought you'd try sweet-talking me into it?"

"Huh? No. I was just telling you my honest feelings."

"Honest. Hmph." It was a decent effort, but Naoko was about as good at acting tough as her daughter was. No amount of toughness could hide the pink in her ears and the extra food she heaped on Maru's plate.

* * *

 **a/n:** so i remember a few chapters back i said something like, "s2 will probably fuck with the headcanons i made up for these girls' families." well, mama tsushima didn't waste any time. i made some adjustments to previous chapters to make it work with naoko's character. i wonder what she teaches? i predict she teaches at uranohoshi and has a hand in convincing the school board to keep that place open just a little longer or becomes a staff advisor for aqours or something. i doubt she was developed as a teacher for no reason.

anyway see you in chapter 18. please leave a review if you want.


	16. Chapter 18

**OF DARKNESS AND LIGHT**

 **Chapter Eighteen**

The Kurosawa estate had always been neat and orderly. No frame was off by so much as a millimeter. No clutter that comes from living somewhere remained for long. The thermostat never budged, no matter how hot or cold it may have been. The servants who attended there made sure it was that way, and, more importantly, _Mashiro_ made sure it was that way.

So when Ruby returned to it in July she was taken aback by just how hard the place had fallen into disarray.

"How's _Hoshi Weekly_ been treating you?" Yuki asked, leading her toward what he referred to as the living room and what Mashiro referred to as the family room.

When Ruby didn't reply he stopped and turned around. She was far behind him, picking things up off the floor and setting statuettes on the table in order.

"Don't mind that there, Rubix Cube," he called. She cast him that pouty sideways glare as she always did when he called her that. He believed that if you weren't calling your kids by embarrassing nicknames then you were going about being a father all wrong. And in light of recent and not-so-recent events he guessed he should have counted himself lucky to be a dad. "In the living room. We need to talk."

She caught up to him, still clutching twin handfuls of clothes. Socks trailed out behind her like party streamers.

 _I've seen boys' dorms that look a little like this._ She wrinkled her nose. _Smell like it, too._ Not that women were perfect and didn't have their off days, but spend enough time with men and they inevitably began to stink and kept on stinking.

"Is Mom on vacation?" she asked. Sometimes Mashiro went off to visit her father, Ruby's grandfather.

Had she been twelve Yuki would have responded with "yes," but Ruby was twenty-two so he said "no." _It should have been ten years ago, he thought miserably, rubbing the back of his head._ _If it had been Dia would still be here._ But now wasn't the time to be feeling sorry for himself. He had done plenty of that in the last couple months. And thinking about Dia scared the shit out of him.

He gestured to the table as they entered. She sat on one side, him the other.

"Where is she?" Ruby asked. The mess was making her anxious. She knew her mother would give them thirteen different flavors of hell for letting the house look like this.

Yuki sighed. "Ruby, your mom and I… We no longer…" He blinked, then reached out and grabbed her hand. "Oh, Ruby, we're getting a divorce."

Ruby laughed. Sometimes she heard things wrong, her father couldn't have said "divorce." Or maybe he did but he was talking about someone else. The Kunikidas, yes, their separation had been coming down the pipe for ages. _But they don't believe in divorce – neither did we, I thought –_

Yuki stared at her with raw, watery eyes. His yukata looked like it hadn't left his body in days. His face was scrubby and vivacious pink with beard.

Ruby's eyes left his and drifted around the living/family room (well, she supposed it was no longer the family room). A noise escaped her throat, sounding faraway to her ears, and she got up and took to cleaning.

"Ruby–"

"I have to. Someone has to."

"I'll get Satoshi-san to take care of it… Or keep cleaning if that makes you feel better," he sighed, turning away. He held up the liquor bottle. "Want some?"

"No." It was 8AM.

"More for me." And he took a swig straight from the bottle.

"Does sis know?"

He didn't respond and she kept cleaning, needing to stay in motion. She was about to ask again, feeling some annoyance about having to and about the whole situation in general, when she heard him sob.

Stunned, she turned toward him. She had never in her life seen her father cry.

"I don't know where she is. Last I heard from her was Ap-April when I offered to cover her rent – oh, I should have never taken you girls off your allowance, I'm so sorry."

"It's okay, Dad–"

"So I thought I'd send her a little care package. Your mom thought I shouldn't. But you don't leave the people you love alone. The package came back and I called them and they said Dia's not lived there for months. I tried her cell phone and it went right to voice mail." By now he was hysterical. "I've read enough news to know what that means. A woman goes off to Tokyo alone, loses contact, and comes back in a c-canvas bag!"

Ruby put a hand on his heaving back. "Dad–"

"Your mom wouldn't let me call the police. They never got along, but I didn't think she'd go and take it this far. Like with your aunt – God, what family does that? This is _not_ the Kurosawa way."

"Dad, she–"

"I'm sorry, Ruby. I should have been stronger and fought for you two. I should have left her years ago and taken you girls with me. Dia would be here, right _here_ –" he waved his hand at the other side of the table.

"She still can be!" Ruby said, and he finally looked up at her. "I've actually been in touch with her. I'm sorry I didn't tell you. I was too caught up in work and…" She fell quiet and looked aside. She thought to say "other stuff," but didn't want to let even that much of a hint out about that. "Work. Yeah. But sis is fine. She's been staying with a friend of ours. You remember You-chan?"

He nodded, though she doubted he heard her. Pretty much as soon as he heard that Dia wasn't dead he'd tuned her out, wondering if she was eating and sleeping enough.

"I want you," he said slowly, "to get her to come home. I need to talk to you girls about your mom and me."

"Of course," she said. She knew this would be an easy task without Mashiro in the house. "But, um…"

"Yes?"

She shifted. "Sorry, Dad, but I think we already kind of know why you and Mom split up."

He shook his head. "Oh, no. You don't. I'll tell you all about it once she's here. Knowledge of our divorce is enough of a burden for you to carry on your own right now."

* * *

Kurosawa Yukitaro's fears were completely unfounded, of course. You had given Dia plenty to eat. And Dia had been "sleeping" enough.

She awoke that morning with her face pressed against You's bare shoulder. She kissed it and dropped an arm over her waist.

"Morning," she heard You say with a smile in her voice.

"G-Good morning." Dia nuzzled her. "Oh, I hope the weather's not going to tuh-hake you from mmme today. Not a… after last night."

"No worries there, ma'am," You said smartly. "Scattered showers throughout Tokyo. None of them will be severe. Today is ours."

"Good." Dia edged closer so her front pressed on You's back, skin to skin. You could guess how today's itinerary would start: with cuddles. Dia was a board-certified cuddler; You admittedly didn't know much despite their courtship (really, could she call this a relationship?) but she did know that. Sometimes their morning cuddles went further, most times not.

This morning's cuddle seemed to be heading further when You's phone rang. Grumbling, she propped herself up on an elbow and grabbed it.

"Um," she said, staying Dia's caressing hand, "it's your sister."

Dia's head jerked up, eyes wide. She blinked, then withdrew her hand and sat back.

"Hello?"

"You-chan? Hi. I hope I didn't call you at a bad time."

You glanced at Dia. "Uh, no." _I was about to screw your sister, but I suppose that can wait._ She began wishing she wasn't having this conversation naked.

"Sis isn't picking up her phone. Is she there?"

Sweat prickled on her palms. "Yeah. She is." She fell quiet.

"Can I talk to her?" Ruby asked patiently.

"Sure," You said, trying to sound chipper, trying to sound like she didn't at all mind passing the phone to Ruby's naked sister.

Covering the speaker end of her phone (squeezing it so hard between her hands that her knuckles had turned white), she hissed, "She wants to talk to you."

"Right now?"

You nodded.

"What about?"

"I don't know."

Dia's eyes darted between You and the phone. Then she sighed and got up. You watched as she got dressed. She had a great body. Dia strove for perfection in everything possible (and even impossible) and her figure lived up to it. That was something else You knew. But it seemed like paltry knowledge compared to, let's say, what Hanamaru and Yoshiko knew about each other. Yet for as affectionate as Dia could be, there were times when You felt this coldness from her, a coldness that seemed to say, _I don't want you to get close to me or know me._

She felt something on her head and looked up. Dia stood in front of her in shorts and a tanktop, one hand held out for the phone. You wordlessly handed it over.

"Ruby?" she said, stepping out of the room.

"Hey, sis. How's it going?"

"Fine." She was stiff with caution. Calling in the morning wasn't typical Ruby behavior. "How's Tokyo?"

"Pretty good."

Silence stretched out. Dia broke it. "So, uh…"

"Think you could come home today?"

She sighed, knowing her family would ask her to do this eventually. "I don't know, I…"

She paused, realizing something. If her family was going to drag her home, surely it would be her mother who would do it, right? She decided everything. Calling her back home also wasn't typical Ruby behavior.

"Is Mom there?"

"No," Ruby said immediately.

"Is… Is Dad?"

"Yep. He wants you to come home. He's been really worried about you."

Was that reproach in her voice? More weirdness. Feeling wary and resentful, Dia snapped, "Who wwwwould guh-go home with… with… with _her_ there?"

"Well, she's not here, so you should have no problem." Ruby sighed. "Sorry. It's been a stressful day."

"It's o-okay."

"Dad's a wreck. The house is a mess. He's already drunk."

"What!"

"I know! I stepped inside and I was like, 'Wow, this looks like a male undergrad's dorm.'"

"Wuh-what happened?"

"He–" She fell silent. "I think you should come home and hear it from him."

"Hear what?"

"Sis, this isn't the sort of thing you should learn about over the phone."

 _Someone died_ , she thought. From the sounds of it, it seemed to be Mashiro. S _he's not here, so you should have no problem._ The anger in Ruby's voice. _It's been a stressful day._

Catching her breath, she asked, "Is Mom okay?"

"She's fine. Everyone's fine. We just need you to come home."

"Dad is not fine if he's d-d-duh… C'mon… _drinking_ at this hour! WWWWWhich is it, R-Ruby? Is he fuh-hine… o-or daydrunk?"

Ruby's normally angelic patience broke. "I don't know! Okay? All I know is you have to come back here so he can talk to us about his and Mom's divorce!"

"How can you not know–" Dia bit her tongue and squeaked. Spit filled her mouth. _Not spit_ , a disembodied voice whispered as its sour taste reached her mind. _Blood. Your tongue is bleeding and your parents are splitting up._ Red spittle flew from her lips as she said, "Wuh – huh –"

"I don't know," Ruby said quietly. "I will when you get here."

 _How could you yell at her? The poor girl was carrying this big secret and you bit her head off._ Dia tried reasoning that Ruby had done some yelling of her own, but that inner voice wasn't having it. _This is not about her yelling, this is about you yelling. But what the hell, let's talk about her. She's been busting her hump in Tokyo and carrying this secret, whereas you've been having your dirty dyke sex with You – my, my, you really are one for younger girls, aren't you? You've been hiding in her house and between her legs because you're too pee-in-your-pants afraid to face your goddamn mother. You're twenty-four years old, Dia! So, who do you think has more right to yell?_

Contrite, Dia asked, "Are y-y-yuh… Are you okay?"

"Yeah. Just tired 'cause I've been cleaning Dad's messes."

 _Why_ , Dia wondered, _didn't she get one of our servants to clean them?_ "I'll c-come help."

"Great. See you then."

After hanging up Dia looked around to make sure You couldn't see her, then spat into her palm. Red, but clearer than the stuff that came out while she stuttered. From that day on blood would remind her of her parents' divorce. Her tongue throbbed.

She headed up the stairs and found You topless in her room buttoning her jeans. A new wave of worry washed over her. In her two months staying here she had managed to keep the truth about her family a secret. The two of them had been, she thought, a perfect couple. They lived together, ate together, slept together. They were having fun. Dia feared from now on the good times were over and it was time to be real. _Thing is, I thought I had been._

"What did Ruby want?" You asked.

"For… me to come home."

"Ah." You nodded, then bent to pick up her shirt.

"Say," Dia said suddenly. She took a step forward, then edged back out of the room.

Still bent, You looked up at her.

"Can I tuh-hell – can I tell Ruby about us? I m-mmmean, are we, you know…" She reddened. "…girlfriends?"

You did a double take, then smiled. She stood. "Yeah." She looped her shirt around Dia's neck and pulled her across the doorway into a kiss. "I'd say we're girlfriends."

* * *

Dia had to hold her breath when her father fell on her. His yukata stank of sweat, booze, and shit. His hair stood up off his head in snarls. His beard scratched the side of her face.

"Why didn't you call? I would've let you stay at your friend's house if you wanted. Oh God, I'm so sorry."

This was incredibly surreal. The state her father was in, the state the house was in. Ruby wasn't joking. Looking over his shoulder, Dia saw her dashing through the foyer with an armful of clothes. She expected to wake up in You's bed, just another normal day, hiding from her family, and by breakfast this dream would have passed out of her like bad sweat.

But the dream carried on. Yuki's crying subsided. He pulled back and held her at arms length, his watery eyes squinting as he smiled.

"Diabolical Dia," he said.

"When was the llllast time you bathed?"

His smile faded and his green eyes drifted upward.

Dia's lips drew back and she nodded. "If you have to s-s-s-ssss – pause and think about it, tit's ime – it's time." She turned him around and patted his back. "And shave, too! Letting yourself get like this is a gr-guh-reat big buu buu desu wa!"

He looked at her over his shoulder, smiled, and slumped off toward the bathroom.

"I don't want to ssssee you in that same yukata!" she called after him. Her hand reached out and caught Ruby, who was hurrying by, by the shoulder. "And you."

Ruby squeaked. "Me?"

"You. Why duh-d-d-d – Christ… Why don't you t-take a break and let sssomeone… else clean up?"

Ruby paused, then brought both hands to her head. Unbeknownst to Dia, her head was in an uproar. She had just figured out a cleaning itinerary when Dia blew it all out of her brain when she stopped her to talk. _I was just in the laundry room, and I came back out here to… what?_

Her eyes fell upon the china collection and lit up.

"Ruby?"

 _The dishes… Yes, the dishes!_

And she ran off, her sister in pursuit.

"DDDDid you hear what I… said?"

"I did." Ruby plunged her arms elbow-deep into the suds. "Sorry, sis, but I can't stop. At first I was doing this because I was afraid of what Mom would say. Then Dad told me they're separated and you weren't home and we had nothing to talk about, so I am cleaning. I find it kind of calming."

 _Then why don't you look calm?_ "S-Sorry I was mean to you on the phone earlier."

Ruby shook her head. "It's fine. I know why you don't like coming home." She paused, then said, "I'm sorry, too."

"How long have you known… about it?"

"Just found out about it this morning." Another pause, then she said quietly, "But I think I knew this would be happening since high school. Did you?"

Dia, who had secretly spent ten years stepping on every crack on every sidewalk, said, "Y-Yeah." She thumbed the left side of her mouth, then said, "Duh-oo you want some help?"

"Um… yeah. I haven't done the dining room yet."

"How does one man make such a big mess?" Dia muttered as she went off to do her bit.

* * *

Yuki eventually emerged from the bathroom in pajamas. Clean though he was, he still didn't look like him, Dia thought. He had always put gel in his hair, but today he let it hang over his forehead. Also, he didn't shave.

"Dad," Dia said reproachfully as he beckoned her and Ruby into the living room.

"I know, I know. I'm keeping the beard." He paused and laughed. "I think it goes with my new image."

Dia and Ruby exchanged looks. Acquiring a new image wasn't something parents did, or anyone over thirty, they thought. Once you passed adolescence you'd learned everything about yourself that you could, and you were set to be you until the day you died. What new image?

"Maybe it's men's version of haircuts," Ruby said.

"Yeah," Dia said, nodding. "We get haircuts after breakups, they get beards."

"Ha ha," said Yuki. "Anyway, does it count when you did the breaking up?"

"So the divorce _was_ your idea," said Dia.

"Yes. And no. Legally speaking, I was the one who did wrong."

"How?! You could t-totally file for d-d-d-ddddivorce on grounds of cruelty and abuse!"

"Your mother wasn't abusive, Dia. We just didn't get along."

Dia stared at him, unbelieving. Get along, hell. She and Ruby didn't always get along, but she never hit her in the face.

"What did you do wrong?" Ruby asked.

Yuki fell quiet. He leaned an elbow on the table, one hand over his mouth.

"Did you have an a-affair?" Dia asked. "Oh, Dad!"

"I did kind of have an affair… No, scratch 'kind of.' It _was_ an affair. But that's not what Mashi- what your mother is filing for divorce over." He looked back up and, for a wonder, the man was actually _smiling._ "I think you'll appreciate it. She's filing for divorce on grounds of fraudulence."

Dia and Ruby looked at each other.

"Fraudulence." Dia squinted. "That's when someone's, like… infertile and never dddisclosed it."

Ruby looked back at Yuki, a slow sort of realization dawning on her. "And we know they're not infertile because they had us." She had recently assisted in the writing of an article about the divorce of an actress and – get this – an enka rapper. The rapper had always been an eccentric fellow, so no one was shocked when he came out as gay after they split. The actress had filed for the divorce. The grounds: fraudulence. "Sis, Dad's coming out."

Dia laughed. "Oh, cuh-come on, Ruby, there's nnnno way either of our parents are–"

She cut herself off as she turned back toward Yuki. He was staring at them both with wide eyes. Ruby thought she recognized that look: _Okay, it's out, I'm out, just please accept me and don't hurt me._

"You had two k-k-kids."

"That I did." Yuki felt it unnecessary to mention that just because you had an orgasm didn't mean there were fireworks. Dia should have been old and sexually active enough to understand that. And sexually self-aware, he supposed, reflecting on how that majority of his adult life was spent thinking this was as good as sex got. That all changed one day at work when he thought just this once he'd follow his instincts and see what the internet had to offer in the ways of hot men. He wound up shooting the second-biggest load of his life. The first-biggest came after he blew Eijun, one of his servants, and before Mashiro came in their room with that flinty look in her eyes and told him she had seen them.

But he couldn't tell his daughters this, so he said, "I am a gay man with two kids who make me very proud and lucky."

"I don't think we need to interrogate him," said Ruby. "I mean, we're gay so we know how bad it feels when people invalidate us and demand proof."

Dia sighed. "You're r… right. I'm sorry, D-D-Duh-D… Father. Welcome to the club." She never meant to doubt him. It was just wild, three out of four family members being gay. "This 'change of image' – the beard, that is – it wwwouldn't have to d-do with you coming out, would it?"

"Well, lose one beard, gain another, that's my new philosophy." He laughed and rubbed his chin. "There's a type for men who like fat guys. 'Bears,' I think they're called. I'm just trying to fit that image."

Ruby smiled, amazed. Here she was, discussing which end of the twink-bear spectrum her father fell on. Between that and _Hoshi Weekly_ her life was just getting curiouser and curiouser. She knew a certain lady in Tokyo who would be kicking her feet and squealing with laughter at all this.

* * *

 **A/N:** i feel like the last few chapters have been about the parents. the next one's going to be about hanamaru's.

i'm going back to college next fall. i'll be majoring in art and design. i'm hoping to go to u of i in champaign-urbana. it's the best art school in the state, and both of my sisters went there. i'm excited!


	17. Chapter 19

tw: homophobic slurs

* * *

 **OF DARKNESS AND LIGHT**

 **Chapter Nineteen**

"Ume? Aren't you going to say anything?"

He wasn't even looking at her. Matsuri sat in a wicker chair, a cocktail in hand, while Umenosuke stood facing the foyer.

"I think you're wrong," he finally said. "She's not like that."

"Oh? Come on, Ume. We've always known, haven't we? She's never shown any interest in boys."

"That doesn't make her queer. That makes her…"

"Quiet? Bookish? Reserved?" Matsuri shook her head.

"She's her own person." He looked tired. The summer festival was coming and he had spent all day preparing for it. Now this. He wondered how good the turnout would be if they knew his daughter was a dyke. All that hard work and preparation (and not to mention money) for nothing. "Not every girl has to be head cheerleader."

"I wasn't. I was all those words I just said, but even I was eager for a boyfriend." She stood. "Ume, those panties–"

"They're hers."

"Not her size. The notebook–"

"So she's close to that Boshiko-chan."

"It's a new generation, Ume. When _we_ were kids girls could get all touchy-feely and it didn't make them gay. Nowadays we don't know."

"Why, Matsuri?" he yelled, turning around all of a sudden. "Why do you want her to be a queer so badly?"

"Hey, I am on your side! I never said I _wanted_ this! But as her parents I think we owe her more than to ignore this!"

He squeezed his eyes shut. A tension headache had snapped tight around his noggin like a bunch of iron bands. According to the liberals homosexuality was something someone was born with. As far as he was concerned, the liberals were retards who had never held a baby. He could still remember March 4, almost twenty-three years ago. The snow that Matsuri liked so much finally gave way to flowers and he had asked the tiny newborn infant in his hands, "Are you Hanamaru?" and she had smiled. What now, libtards? Do you think that baby had pegging a woman with a rainbow unicorn dildo on the brain?

With an effort he tried to keep his voice down. "Do you know what they say about the Nakamuras and the Yamadas and the Toujous? We've been kind enough not to say those things. Do you think they'll show us the same kindness?"

"So we'll keep her safe and keep it quiet. We'll tell her to keep it quiet, too."

He pointed a large finger at her. "You're damn right we will. _Hey, Hanamaru!_ " he barked up the stairs.

"She's not here. She said she was going to a friend's, but I know she's not."

"Holy crows, Matsuri! You just let her go out there and do whatever?"

"She's twenty-two!"

"Not with that kind of attitude!" And he stomped up the stairs.

"Ume…!" But he didn't respond. She sighed, sat back down, and reached for her carton of cigarettes.

* * *

Matsuri's word just wasn't good enough for Umenosuke. He had wanted to hear it from Hanamaru herself. After all, she knew best if she was queer or not… and as her father he knew best how to make her stop being queer.

But Hanamaru wasn't home, so he had to do some investigating.

Her bedroom had been a place he had avoided since she was eleven. Adolescent girls were incredibly secretive creatures, and besides you never knew what you might walk in on them doing. Nothing he had wanted his mom to walk in on him doing.

 _Cripes, she still sleeps under her cartoon kitty cat print quilt!_ What now, liberals? Still think Kunikida Umenosuke's little girl was a big old queer?

He sat on the edge of her bed, wondering where she was and what she was doing. Then he reached for her nightstand drawer. When he was a kid it was commonly said that if you wanted to learn all there was to know about someone you had to look in his or her medicine cabinet. If he or she didn't have a medicine cabinet, though, a porn collection would suffice.

He pawed aside old receipts, photos, books, and an expired bag of cookies when his big hand landed on glossy paper. He pulled the magazine out. It was for one of those underwear and lingerie companies, the stuff Matsuri used to look good in. He stared at the models with thunderclouds on his face until it hit him: Owning these magazines did not make her a fag. Matsuri subscribed to magazines like this and she very much liked men, thank you very much.

 _Porn collection's guy stuff anyway_ , he thought. If you wanted to learn all there is to know about a girl you had to get more personal. You had to read her diary.

He dug through to the bottom of her drawer without finding anything resembling a diary. His hand wedged between her mattress and box spring and struck gold.

It was a simple hardcover booklet with more in it than just recounts of daily events. Recipes, lists of character traits for stories, appointments underlined and circled in red ink. If Matsuri was telling the truth then surely word of a gay lover would show up in here eventually.

There was a noteworthy entry on March 17.

 _Whenever I'm with Yoshiko I'm always so turned on, and since I live with her that's pretty much all the time. It's becoming a real dilemma! I should have considered this before I agreed to go out with her. Not that that would have changed my mind anyways. I love her._

 _She and I recently started sleeping together… not having sex, just going to sleep in the same bed. I can always feel her breasts on my body while I try to stay impure thoughts long enough to get some shut-eye._

 _Her body is amazing. Holy crows, she is so hot. Sometimes it's all I can do to stop myself pushing her down on her bed (our bed, I should say) and put my hands on her, feel her private skin_

 _I had to stop and take a walk to get this feeling to go away. This is my life now: constantly horny and nothing to do about it. I doubt Yoshiko wants to sleep with me as much as I do her anyway. I'm not exactly "sexy."_

Dull-faced, he flipped ahead to May. Maru was relishing in the plenitude of sex she was having with this Yoshiko. She especially loved how she sounded in the throes of ecstasy calling her name

 _(Are you Hanamaru?)_

and the look on her face after a good cum. This Yoshiko must have been da Vinci in the art of whoring yourself out if she could get women nuts over her as well. Hanamaru had touched her pussy and had even put it in her mouth. The jury was in. She had had lesbian sex.

* * *

Earlier that day Yoshiko had called Maru with good news. Naoko was going out with some friends to see a movie that evening. If Maru wanted she could come over and they could spend some quality time together.

Hanamaru came up from between Yoshiko's legs, her hair a righteous mess and a sheen of her cum on her lips. She crawled up from her pussy and into her arms. Like her diary said, there were many things she loved about sex with Yoshiko, but the sound of her name being moaned and even that vulnerable yet warm look in her eyes afterward paled in comparison to how she held her. They were both wet and sticky. Hanamaru had never felt so close to anyone.

Yoshiko, as though reading her mind, whispered, "I love making love with you."

"The feeling's mutual."

"I love you. Everything about you." Heedless of the fact that they were both naked and very much at 1 HP after downing the final raid boss Sex, she said, "You're beautiful, fun, talented. You don't run from my past, no matter how bad it is. You – I-I'm babbling, but I guess what I'm saying is I'm in this. I'm in this good."

Maru had ducked her head into Yoshiko's shoulder so she couldn't see her smiling and fighting back laughter – not mocking laughter but purely happy laughter, the kind that can turn into crying.

"I'm sorry," Yoshiko said. "I said something weird and embarrassing–"

"No." Maru raised her head. "You told me how you felt about us. Thank you." She cupped her cheek in her hand and said, "I've felt the same way. That I'm in this. That I never want to be with anyone else. This is it. It has to be you."

Yoshiko looked up at her, mouth open. Then she snapped it shut and glared aside, blushing.

Hanamaru laughed. "This is no time for you to be acting tough, missy!" Then: "Well, now that we're together for good, what do we do?"

"Become a couple of grey old lesbos in Shibuya?" Yoshiko suggested and they both laughed. "You look like you'd age well."

"I do?" No one had ever told Hanamaru that before. And she had never stopped to think about what she'd look like when she got old. "I think you do, too. I can see you with a little salt and pepper in your hair."

"And a hardcore case of Alzheimer's. Chuunibyou strikes again." In a raspy granny grunt voice she crowed, "Satan has come to prepare a place for you amidst the ruins of tomorrow! Zuramaru! You were supposed to stop me from doing this!" She carried on like this until her joke about a foul evil steaming from her incontinence diapers had Maru doubled over with laughter.

"Ahh, shoot. Ma's gonna be home in half an hour." While they dressed Yoshiko, trying to sound offhanded, said, "Maybe next time we can be the ones seeing the movies."

"Yeah. I'd _love_ to see _It_!" Stephen King was one of Maru's favorite writers.

"I would, too." They started toward the door. "I'll call you and then we can set something up, yeah?"

"Yeah." Once Hanamaru was outside she glanced around before taking Yoshiko's face in her hands and kissing her deeply. "I love you."

"I love you, too."

She trailed a hand off Yoshiko's chest as she walked toward the stairs. She watched her go before wandering back to her room to Febreze it. The last thing she wanted was for Naoko to smell the sex they had.

* * *

Hanamaru poured herself out of bed the next morning, only two percent awake. She had an important pivotal scene in her book to write (the heroine encounters the monster in the temple once again and realizes her love interest actually had nothing to do with it turning up in there), but she would need coffee first.

The second she set foot in the kitchen her parents stopped talking. They stayed quiet as she put the kettle on the stove and grabbed the Sanka.

"Hanamaru," her father said.

"Oh, Ume, let's not start this now…"

Maru turned and unease wormed its way up her stomach. The kitchen was famously heralded as one of the happiest places in a person's house, the omnipresent host of family meals and discussions. Only, the majority of meals taken here were without Matsuri – just Hanamaru and Umenosuke having their boonies bumpkin dinner while Tokyoite Matsuri drank in the living room. And not every discussion had in here could be called "happy." The conversation about her dying grandmother had in fact been downright miserable. And she could tell by the hard look in her dad's eyes and the tired look in her mom's that this conversation was gonna be pretty miserable itself.

 _They know_ , she thought.

 _They can't know_ , the logical part of her mind cried. _How could they possibly know?_

Hanamaru couldn't really answer that, but when faced with her parents with Those Looks she felt as thought mentally reduced to a child, wildly supposing they had developed psychic powers and could read her mind.

"Where were you last night?" he asked.

"At a friend's."

He nodded. "Where were you really?"

Matsuri sighed and looked away.

"I… wasn't lying."

"Really? I'd hate to think I raised a liar. You know what they do to liars, right?"

"Make them swallow a thousand needles?" The guilt in her stomach made her feel like she had already.

"Mm-hmm. So, how about telling your father the truth this time?"

The father-daughter bond was the fatal chink in her armor. Now she had to tell him. Swallowing, she nodded.

"Are you a lesbian?"

She looked towards her mother. Matsuri pointedly stared out the window. Maru looked back at her dad. The muscles in his face had slackened. He stared back dully.

She swallowed again and shook her head. "Daddy, please don't hate me."

"I don't hate you. I just don't understand. You don't look like a lesbian."

 _Sorry, I'll try to work on that._

He waved a hand up and down. "A girl as beautiful as you could have any man she wanted! Why would you want a lesbian?"

"Are you saying," Hanamaru said, taking a page out of You's book, "that women are a lesser option?"

"I didn't say 'women.' I said 'lesbians.'"

"Lesbians _are_ women."

He snorted, gave a half-smile, nodded.

She began to feel angry. "Well… If men are so great, why don't _you_ have one?"

At this Matsuri laughed. Umenosuke's dark eyebrows fell fast over his eyes, and Maru, suddenly remembering the bruise on Dia's face, immediately regretted saying that. As if on queue, the kettle whistled. She jumped, then without turning from him snapped the stove off.

"I am _not_ a fag," he said.

"'Fag' is a hate word."

"Oh, come on, Hanamaru!"

"Daddy, you said you don't hate me, but everything you've said to me so far has been hateful." Shaking and unable to stop herself, she yelled, "So, who's the liar, huh?"

"You would call me a liar?" He stood.

"You had no problem calling _me_ a liar!"

"That's because I'm your father!"

They stood hot-faced and glaring at each other.

Matsuri spoke up. "You know, Hanamaru, I am personally very okay with lesbians."

Maru looked past Umenosuke in hope in amazement. Her whole life she had been much closer to her father than her mother. Matsuri had seemed to want nothing to do with the two of them. Who knew she would be Hanamaru's ally?

Umenosuke rounded on her, wide-eyed. "That wasn't what you told me last night!"

"You told him?" Maru, normally a soft-spoken girl, couldn't recall ever having yelled so much. "How did you find out?"

"A mother knows."

"Oh, come off it!" Umenosuke said, disgusted. "She found that Toshiko girl's underwear in your pants pocket."

"You went through my stuff?"

"I was doing your laundry."

"Oh, it's a good thing you did that, 'cause I've never ever in my have ever done laundry and why, I just don't have a clue how to!"

"I was – Hanamaru, you get back here! Where are you going?"

"Home," she grunted, making for the stairs.

"You _are_ home."

"No. Kawasaki's my home. This –" She stopped, her eyes drifting around the first floor of the house. "I don't know what this is."

* * *

The sun and temperatures climbed high as AM turned to PM. Summer was a killer in Uchiura. All the same, Yoshiko met with Ruby at the beach for a reunion. The last time they saw each other was at the train station – Ruby had loaded up her luggage and hugged Yoshiko and Hanamaru goodbye. Her eyes had been bright with hope and anticipation… or maybe it was tears.

Today they were dark and dull.

"How's your sorbet?" Yoshiko asked.

"Bitter. Like life."

They were sitting on a low stone wall at the back of the beach, under the shade of a tree.

"Hm. Tokyo not agreeing with you?" She stuck out her tongue, staying drops of melting chocolate ice cream from the end of her cone.

"It's fine. It's divorce that doesn't agree with me."

"You're getting a divorce?" Yoshiko squawked. Cold wetness touched her hand and, snarling, she lapped ice cream off her hand. "Since when were you married?"

"It's not my divorce," Ruby said, smiling in amusement. "It's my parents'."

"Oh… oh, shit," she whispered. "You're not gonna lose your fishing business, are you?"

"I don't know. My dad's trying to convince my mom to file for a no-fault divorce."

"Was there no fault involved?" Switching her ice cream cone to her left hand, Yoshiko dug in her pocket and pulled out her cell phone.

"Kind of, depending on how you look at it. He's gay."

Yoshiko blinked and whipped her head around. "No foolin'?… Ah, dammit!" she hissed as her ice cream fell off the cone and hit the sand.

"No fooling." Ruby tilted her head. "Is something going on? You keep checking your phone."

"Zuramaru didn't respond to my good morning text."

"Is that a bad thing?"

Yoshiko sighed and looked down. She fidgeted with the cone for a bit before she finally said, "I had a weak moment last night and told her I was in it for the long haul. I think I might've scared her off."

Ruby shook her head. "That doesn't sound like her. She's not scared of… well, anything, now that I think about it."

"Then why won't she text me back?"

"Maru's always been bad about texting people back. My sister actually yelled at her over that once. 'What, do you just send a text and then chuck your phone across the Pacific Ocean?'" Scraping up the last of her sorbet, she said, "If you're that worried you should call her. But honestly? I'll bet she's beside herself knowing she's got you for the long haul." She smiled.

Yoshiko grunted.

Later when she got home she holed herself up in her room and called Hanamaru. There were several rings and Yoshiko had just resigned herself to leaving a voicemail when Maru picked up.

"Hey, Zuramaru. What's up?"

"Oh, nothing."

She certainly didn't sound beside herself. Yoshiko's heart rate quickened.

"Look, I know what I said last night was… intense. If you're not on board with it I understand." She rolled onto her stomach and crossed her legs above her rear. "Uh, is it just me or do you keep fizzling in and out?"

Maru's voice crackled in her ear. "Yeah, well, you… ow how the Paw Pad… ets bad rece…tion."

Yoshiko blinked. "Why are you at the Paw Pad?"

"…ot in a fight… my pare… They know I'm…ay."

"You told them?" she yelled, incredulous.

But the only response was a clunk as the call dropped.

Yoshiko rolled off the bed and paced the room. Now why would Hanamaru go and do that after they both decided it was a bad idea? Well, it sounded like their worries hadn't been unfounded. It sounded like Maru had been given the boot.

Yoshiko ran her fingers through her hair. She recalled Hanamaru telling her about a girl she had known whose mother had went up the side of her head after she found out. Did mama Kunikida hit her? Did her colossal dad?

She was no longer worried. She was freaking out.

She stopped, stooped, and grabbed her open suitcase. She spread her hands out and swept up piles of clothes and threw them in. She repeated this process a couple more times, tossed in her allergy medicine, and zipped it up.

"Where are you going?" Naoko asked when she saw Yoshiko hauling her suitcase into their hallway.

"I need to go back to Kawasaki."

"But you just got here! I made plans for your birthday!"

"I know. I'm sorry. But Zuramaru's parents kicked her out. I need to give her a hug." She stepped into her shoes and made for the door.

"Yoshiko."

She turned to look at Naoko.

"Don't I get a kiss goodbye?"

She pecked her on the cheek. Naoko's hand grabbed her shoulder lightly.

"She's a good woman, Hanamaru-chan. You really picked a winner in her. While she was over here she told me, 'Yoshiko's a good person, and I think she came out that way because you did such a good job raising her.'"

"Well…" Yoshiko shuffled her feet. "Raising a kid by yourself is no small feat."

Naoko's hand tightened. "Yoshiko, you need to marry her."

"Ma, we've only been dating for five months. And it's not even legal."

"Not everywhere, but some places allow it. C'mon, Yoshiko. I'll cover travel costs and whatever else you need. Just put a ring on her or, so help me God, I will!"

"Methinks you need a boyfriend – ow!" she grunted as Naoko twisted her ear.

* * *

Going back to Kawasaki had started to feel like a bad idea by the time Yoshiko was already on the train. She couldn't help but notice an unsettling connection: the day after she tells Maru she's in this Maru gets kicked out and possibly beat up on. Yeah, awesome, a fat load of good Yoshiko's love was doing. Hanamaru probably wanted to be left alone. _I told Kanan and Mari that nothing good would come from dating me. Dammit, I told them!_

She also felt bad for her mom. After months with barely any calls from her daughter the little shit decides to suddenly cut their visit short. Yoshiko pulled out her phone (she had been doing this a lot to distract herself) and made a note to call her mother every Sunday.

* * *

Hanamaru hadn't been physically assaulted, which was good. But Yoshiko couldn't say that she wasn't hurt.

Empty bags, boxes, and buckets littered the coffee table and floor around the sofa. Pizza, fried chicken, McDonald's – Maru had gorged herself on them all and then fell asleep in front of the TV.

Wading carefully among the trash (Riko would have a bird if she could see the state their living room was in), Yoshiko sat down next to her and gently shook her.

"Yoshiko?" Maru whispered. She grimaced and held her taut tummy. "Oh, my stomach hurts so bad…"

"I'll bet." Stroking her hair, she asked, "Hanamaru, what happened?"

She didn't respond, only stared at the TV with tears spilling over her eyelids. On the screen three boys were talking to a girl with a shaved head.

"Well, you don't have to talk about it if you don't want to. I just got worried about you, so I came back."

They watched the show in silence. It wasn't until the credits that Hanamaru spoke up.

"He called me a liar." She began sobbing. "What kind of p-person lies to her parents?"

Yoshiko sighed. "You're not a liar."

"But I am! Don't you see? I kept you from them, letting them think they knew me when the me they knew was fake!"

"That's because they didn't want to know the real you! Hanamaru, you're not a liar if you've no choice but to do it. If the only truth your parents can accept is one that isn't real. They're the liars!"

"Yeah, I said they were." Maru sniffled. "My daddy said I didn't look like a lesbian."

Yoshiko put a hand on her shoulder. "Well, if it's any consolation, you look like a big flaming lesbo to me."

"And he said I could have any man I wanted."

"Huh. Didn't he say at graduation that you were too fat to find a husband? What, now that you like women you're Miss Japan?"

"Yeah…" Maru blinked, then looked at Yoshiko with big eyes. "Yeah!" Her eyebrows came down. "And the only reason he knows I'm gay is because Mom told him! And the only reason _she_ knows is because she went rooting through my room!"

Yoshiko's mouth fell open. "What?"

"I thought some things looked like they'd been moved around last night. Oh, and then when me and Daddy were fighting she tried to flip the tables, all, 'Oh, I love lesbians.' You know what I think? I think she was trying to turn me against him."

"Holy Christ, that is so _evil_. What the fuck!" This was so evil in fact that Yoshiko considered renouncing Satan's name. If anyone deserved to dwell in hell it was Maru's parents.

"It wasn't nice, but I was always closer to him than her. Maybe I should have spent more time with her."

"Do you really wanna be closer to someone who does that shady bullshit?"

"No… but they're my mom and daddy!" The tears came back. "How am I supposed to live without them?" And she broke down in great, gasping sobs.

Yoshiko put her arms around her and laid her head on her shoulder. "Oh, Hanamaru. You go ahead and cry. Cry all you want." And she obliged, crying in their darkened apartment, moaning "why" and "I don't understand," feeling simultaneously close and all alone.


End file.
